


Kings and Pawns

by jlneveloff (Ashaya)



Category: Star Trek: 2009
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Based on, Betrayal, Drama, F/M, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Revenge, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 16:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 65,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashaya/pseuds/jlneveloff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he followed Uhura, Spock was unable to shake the feeling that something had forever changed between him and Kirk. Just how much things had changed would soon become clear. Alternate Mirror!Verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Planet of Elba II

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Star Trek and associated characters created by Gene Roddenberry. I own nothing at all. …which makes me all kinds of sad, 'cause I really wanna borrow Spock for a while.
> 
> Written for the LJ community reel_startrek, Round Two.
> 
> Based upon the film The Count of Monte Cristo, written by Jay Wolpert (loosely based upon the novel by Alexandre Dumas père) and directed by Kevin Reynolds. I'd like to think I changed enough to make it my own but probably not…maybe not at first, but there are bigger changes closer to the end…and potential plot holes as a result XD
> 
> Genre: Drama, Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst  
> Beta: slwmtiondaylite  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Word Count (total): ~65,700  
> Summary: In a Universe that has always known power and corruption, it is only a matter of time before the power takes over once again and innocent people are sacrificed. Spock/Uhura. Alternate MirrorVerse.
> 
> Warnings: Language, mild adult situations, violence and the occasional plot hole

____spacer____

____spacer____

 _In 2233, the Romulan Nero invaded the Terran Empire.  
Twenty-five years later, he was captured to stand trial for the atrocities he carried out.  
Starfleet, now in charge, hoped to create a world for the better.  
But in a universe that had always only known power and corruption,  
And it is only a matter of time before the power takes over once again…  
_

… _and innocent people are sacrificed._

* * *

  
 **CHAPTER ONE  
PLANET OF ELBA II**

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Spock maneuvered the small shuttlecraft quickly and carefully through the rough terrain and gaseous green clouds of the isolated planet called Elba II. It was a hostile environment, with an atmosphere known to be poisonous to humanoids. In other words, it was the perfect spot for an escape route. The ISS _Enterprise_ had been en route to capture the emperor, the Romulan called Nero, but had been caught in a heated battle. The emperor's technological advances that had been implemented into the fleet had proved useful as the _Enterprise_ had been capable of holding her own and even disabling the massive _Narada_. However, Emperor Nero had managed to slip off his ship via an escape pod, which Spock and his team now pursued.

Spock glanced behind him briefly before returning his attention to piloting. "Lieutenant Kirk, have you properly prepared the environmental suits?"

Lieutenant James T. Kirk was Spock's best friend. They had known each other since childhood and, despite the vast differences in their personality and culture, worked well together. Spock had entered Starfleet several years prior to Kirk, who led the life of a delinquent, despite his intelligence – something Spock did not understand; something he could not comprehend. Spock had even spoken to his mentor, the no-nonsense Admiral Richard Barnett, in an effort to persuade Kirk to join Starfleet to no avail. Eventually, Kirk was persuaded to follow in his friend's footsteps when another admiral – Christopher Pike – talked to him after encountering him after he initiated a bar fight. Spock had never known what the exact words were that Admiral Pike used to convince Kirk to join the fleet, nor had he ever met him but he was pleased it worked nonetheless.

Kirk turned his head at the sound of his name, a smirk on his face. "Yes, Commander."

"Very well," Spock replied before setting the shuttle on the surface gently. Standing, he turned and saw that the tactical officers he ordered to accompany him were currently putting on their environmental suits, helping one another. Kirk had already donned his suit and held Spock's for him.

Spock took the suit with a nod and slipped it on over his uniform. Helmets were passed to one another, as well as phaser rifles. Despite Spock calculating the need for massive firepower to be almost nothing, as the emperor, most likely, would be alone, it was protocol to bring along arms. "My scans aboard the _Enterprise_ did not indicate any large groups of life forms and the dimensions of the emperor's escape pod were only large enough for one individual, two at most. Therefore I do not suspect we will encounter any situation requiring the use of force, but please be aware of your surroundings at all times. This environment is unforgiving for humanoids so please ensure that your suit is functioning properly and alert either myself or Lieutenant Kirk if it is otherwise."

Once the helmets were securely fastened, checked and rechecked to ensure safety, and communications between helms were turned on, Spock, Kirk and the two tactical officers stepped into the harsh atmosphere. Spock opened his tricorder and scanned the area, attempting to pick up any sign of the emperor. Finding nothing, he lowered it and favored his rifle instead. "My projections of the route the emperor's escape pod was on indicate that it touched ground approximately two-hundred meters north of our current location."

The officers nodded their understanding and followed Spock as he led them through the hazy fog. Few minutes later, the men heard a sound in the distance, and froze in their spot. "I believe we are closing in," Spock whispered. He crouched down and slowly moved forward. He rounded the corner and ducked behind the large boulder and quickly motioned with his hand that the others should follow course.

Kirk knelt beside the half-Vulcan and peered over the boulder. Before them was a large basin filled with a thin layer of green fog and several Romulans, each wearing their own protective suit and helmet. And each carried a phaser rifle. They were guarding a large shuttle pod – much larger than the escape pod they saw the emperor flee in – which had been abandoned several meters to the left of the scene.

"Well…looks like your scans were wrong," Kirk murmured under his voice as to not attract unwanted attention. His eyes scanned the scene before them. "They planned for this."

Spock nodded, his gaze following Kirk's. "It appears so." He raised his tricorder once again to see if he could get a fix on them now. "The atmosphere on the planet must have interfered with the accuracy of the scanners." Spock recalibrated the tricorder and it chirped, indicating that it was now reading the situation accurately. He slightly shook his head, more so at himself than for any anything else. "I should have compensated. Am I to assume that this means that you will be taking your leave?" he asked his friend, a lift of his eyebrow, his only outward sign of amusement.

Kirk chuckled. "No way. I never abandon a friend in the face of stupid, suicidal danger. However," he good-naturedly stressed, "I must officially object to this course of action and am only here under direct orders. _Officially_. There. I covered myself." Kirk reached inside his pack and fumbled for a second, trying to grasp something. "Unofficially, for that little stunt you pulled on the bridge," he said, finally grasping what he was looking for. "King's to you."

Kirk tossed Spock a black chess piece – the King. Spock caught it singlehandedly and held it before him, examining it. He was a little mystified at Kirk for bringing up the game they had played since childhood in the middle of a battle situation. It was a childish game to be sure, and highly illogical, but it was still something they did. Every time one of them bested the other, whatever the situation may be, they were 'king' of the moment.

"Very well," Spock said, tossing a bemused glance towards his friend before pocketing the chess piece.

Kirk caught Spock's expression and snorted quietly. "Hey, don't worry. I'm sure I'll get it back in no time."

"Of that I have no doubt," Spock replied, preparing his weapon for combat. He peeked over the top of the boulder and mentally calculated their odds as well as strategies that provided the best outcome. "I estimate the chances of our victory to be less than 34.2 percent. In order to the achieve maximum probability, I suggest that we attack –"

Kirk interrupted him. "Spock…how many times must I tell you? There is no such thing as a no-win scenario."

"The calculations would argue that point with you, Jim," Spock countered.

"Well, we've got the element of surprise on our side, right?" Kirk insisted. "Besides, there are only a couple more of them than us, so…

Spock paused, noticing that Kirk was preparing his phaser rifle for combat, cocking it. The two tactical officers noticed as well, and began to ready their weapons. "Perhaps, but, Jim, I implore you not to-"

"Write me up if you have to."

"Lieutenant Kirk, I order you…" Spock attempted to pull rank but was thwarted by Kirk's sudden desire to endanger his life.

Lieutenant James T. Kirk suddenly leapt to his feet, gave a battle cry and charged forward, his tactical officers at his side. Spock suppressed the urge to sigh; it would be of no use. And yet he could not simply stand by and watch as his friend got everyone killed. Spock got to his feet and rushed forward, rifle at the ready. The Starfleet officers fired their weapons as they ran towards the enemy, ducking behind rocks as needed for protection.

The Romulans were indeed surprised. They struggled to return fire, yet found themselves quickly overtaken by the smaller, more agile Starfleet officers. One after another they fell to the ground. Spock's crew was not left unscathed, however, as they took phaser fire. One Romulan managed to strike one of the tactical officers, killing him.

A few minutes later, and the battle was over. Spock stood from his hiding spot and surveyed the area, taking note of the Romulans that lay dead on the ground. He moved towards the entrance of the shuttlecraft and was suddenly surprised by a Romulan soldier who was a little late to the party. Spock effortlessly rammed him in the stomach with the grip of the phaser. As the Romulan leaned forward to protect his abdomen, Spock struck him over the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

Kirk jogged to Spock's side. "Hey, can you do that mind voodoo thingy you do? Figure out where Nero is?"

Spock's eyebrow rose by its own volition at Kirk's word choice. "Mind meld, Jim," he corrected. "I believe so. I must remove his headgear as well as some of my own protection, but I believe that the personal risk is minimal. This Romulan, however, will most likely die of suffocation," Spock said as he knelt on the ground. He pulled the helm off the fallen enemy and pulled his right hand free from the protective glove. He positioned his fingers on the Romulan's psi points and delved into his mind, looking for all signs of Nero.

Above him, the humans watched him as well as their situation, to ensure that they were not attacked by surprise. Spock's eyes had closed as he concentrated on his task but the Romulan had awakened and began to panic while he slowly began to suffocate. He thrashed about, but Spock's superior strength, as he was not undergoing the effects of asphyxiation, held him still.

After a moment, Spock pulled back from the mind meld, having found what he needed. The Romulan struggled for breath, hands grasping at Spock's legs, in a desperate attempt to beg for mercy. Spock stood, ignoring the Romulan's silent plea. "The Emperor is inside the shuttlecraft. He has secluded himself inside one of the storage compartments. We must apprehend him."

Kirk led the team as they hurriedly entered the shuttlecraft. Spock lingered behind. He knelt beside the suffocating Romulan once more, taking the discarded helm in his hand. " _Vah mau vah tor-yehat ri stau_ ," he stated in Vulcan, looking into the Romulan's eyes. "As far as possible, do not kill." He slid the helmet back over the Romulan's head. The Romulan's eyes widened as he took deep breaths, finally able to breathe once more.

Having been raised by his father, Sarek, Spock was taught to live by Surak's teachings, to put aside emotion and embrace logic and peace. That was not to say they did not feel; they did feel deeply, passionately. However, they refused to allow their emotions to overtake logic. Despite the harsh treatment Vulcans had received over the past twenty-five years – though to be honest, the prejudice had been there ever since Vulcans first landed on Earth – Spock and his father practiced the ancient ways of Surak. It was their lifeline, so to speak; something that kept them going even when circumstances were dire.

Spock leaned over the Romulan and whispered harshly in his own language. " _You will not stop us. You interfere and we will kill you. And I assure you, it will not be quick_." The Romulan nodded his understanding and Spock stood so that he could join the others.

Spock found the others inside the shuttlecraft, going through the storage compartments. They had pulled the doors off each one, one by one, and so far came up with nothing. Kirk cast a curious glance at Spock but said nothing about his late arrival. Spock assisted in going through the compartments before finally, they hit the jackpot.

Kirk pulled the door of the last compartment open and shoved his rifle inside, ready to fire if necessary. Their orders were to bring the emperor back alive, but orders did not always translate to the best approach on the battlefield. Emperor Nero was huddled in the dark, defiant despite in his fate. Kirk ordered his tactical officers to pull him out. Spock and Kirk kept their weapons trained on Nero, in case he tried to escape.

As they put the cuffs on him, Nero remained silent but his eyes scanned the men, taking in their appearances. His gaze halted on Spock. "Well, well, well, isn't this ironic? Hello, Spock." He said Spock's name scathingly and began to chuckle maniacally.

Spock's eyes involuntarily narrowed slightly as he tilted his head in confusion. He had never met the emperor personally and as far as he knew, no one had ever told the emperor of himself. Yet the recognition was plain to see. Spock opened his mouth to ask Nero about this turn of events but Nero suddenly fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Oh, shut up," Kirk chided, holstering his phaser. "Had enough of your bullshit."

Spock blinked his surprise. He had wanted to question Nero about how he knew his name. But he supposed that logically, this was not the best place for such questioning. He would pursue that course of action once they were safe aboard the Enterprise. He knelt down and helped Kirk lift the unconscious Romulan and hand him off to the remaining tactical officer to take back to their shuttle.

Kirk wandered into the pilot area of the spacecraft and sat down in the chair. He began peruse through the information on the computer. Spock followed the subordinate officer and took the other pilot seat, peering over at Kirk's console as he tried to determine where the Romulans were going to take Nero.

"Set the shuttlecraft to self destruct to fifteen minutes. As it is the Romulans only method off this planet, we must ensure that they cannot follow us," Spock stated, slipping into rank. Kirk followed the orders, setting the destruct sequence to allow them plenty of time to leave the planet without fear of being followed.

Once everything was set up, the two men gathered their belongings and trekked back to their shuttle, where the tactical officers held Nero. All the Starfleet officers settled into their seats as they prepared to make their way back to the _Enterprise,_ their mission a success.


	2. Conversation with the Enemy

The _Enterprise's_ acting captain, Hikaru Sulu, was waiting for them when Spock and Kirk arrived back on the _Enterprise_. And he was not a happy man. His current first officer had disobeyed his orders and taken several of his crew with him. And he embarrassed him. More than anything else, that little detail angered him. The second the late Captain Forrest died on the bridge during the battle with the emperor, Spock challenged his command, using his damn logic to shut him down. Captain Sulu could barely contain his anger and frustration as he stood in the transporter room, waiting impatiently for his officers to materialize.

The second the half-Vulcan reappeared on the transporter pad, Sulu launched. "You disobeyed my direct orders not to go down there," he growled.

Spock nodded briefly, seemingly unaffected by Sulu's outrage. "Indeed I did. It was the logical course of action and I would do the same thing again if need be."

Kirk stepped off the pad and helped the other officers with Nero, but kept his eye on the scene before him. Sulu's eyes narrowed in fury as he moved towards Spock, attempting to be intimidating. But you cannot intimidate those who are not capable of being intimidated. "Captain," Kirk said, "We will escort Emperor Nero to the brig."

"No," Sulu said, his voice curt. A smirk on his face, he stared at Spock when he spoke again. "Lieutenant Commander Spock, Iyou /Iare to escort our…guest to the brig and there you will remain until we drop the bastard off. I'm taking you off bridge duty. Kirk, you will replace him as necessary."

"Very well, sir." Spock nodded his head briefly. Sulu could tell that he was not pleased with his new assignment, but he didn't care. As far as Sulu was concerned, it was too gentle a punishment; he personally would have preferred to see him in The Agonizer Booth, used to painfully intimidate disobedient officers and force them to submit, and see how much the Vulcan could take before he lost control and beg and plea to be released. But if they had any hope of controlling the Romulan, they needed the strongest man on the ship to be capable.

With disdain in his eyes, Sulu watched Spock step toward Nero and grab the semi-conscious Romulan by the arm, single-handedly supporting his weight. Spock turned on his heels and dragged Nero out of the transporter room and in the direction of the ship's brig.

Sulu turned around to see Kirk and the other officers staring at him, as though they were surprised that he kicked Spock off the command crew, even if temporary. Grunting, Sulu addressed them briefly. "Get back to your stations!"

* * *

Three uneventful hours into his new duty as a guard in the brig and Spock found himself calculating elaborate mathematical equations in his head in an effort to make the time go by faster, something he was not prone to do. While he admittedly was expecting some form of retribution for his blatant disrespect of Sulu's command, Spock could honestly say that he never thought 'guard dog' would be it. He had truly expected Sulu to toss him in The Booth for his insubordination.

Nero lay in the cell Spock had unceremoniously dumped him, teetering in and out of consciousness, having not quite recovered from the blow to the head from the butt of Kirk's phaser rifle. Several minutes later, seven point three to be precise, Spock heard the sound of the brig doors swishing open. He turned in the direction of the sound to see Lieutenant Kirk casually strolling into the room. He smiled his greeting as he sauntered towards Spock, a data PADD in his hand.

"Lieutenant," Spock greeted, relieved to have some form of mental simulation, even in the form of James T. Kirk.

"Commander," Kirk responded in kind, casting a glance towards the unconscious Romulan. Seeing that they were alone, as Nero had fallen unconscious once more, Kirk dropped all pretenses. "My shift just ended. Thought I'd drop by and see if you'd killed yourself yet out of pure boredom."

Spock allowed himself a small smirk in response. "That would be illogical."

Kirk chuckled. "Yeah, well, still. You'd be surprised what boredom can do to a person. Speaking of which," he held up the PADD he had in his hand. "I figured you could use this to somewhat help combat the boredom."

"Thank you." Spock took the PADD and placed it on the table so that he could peruse it later. "I must admit, Jim," he said after a moment. "Being your friend makes everyday an adventure."

"Ha, told you it would work." Kirk chuckled briefly before sobering. "Too bad it won't always be like this."

"No, I suspect my…punishment will end soon, even if currently it does not seem so."

Kirk gave an uncertain laugh and a sideways glance towards the Vulcan. "Uh, that wasn't quite what I was referring to."

"Yes, I am aware, Jim. That was an attempt at humor. You have commented several times on my lack of a sense of humor throughout our friendship. And as such, I am attempting to improve."

"Ah, well. Getting better," Kirk commended with a smile.

Spock nodded. "Now, Jim," he said, shifting his tone. "Can you please clarify your previous statement?"

Kirk shrugged, almost nonchalantly, as though he was trying to brush off the meaning of his words. "Nah, I mean…well, I don't plan on being a lieutenant forever. II will /Ibe captain someday."

Spock nodded in understanding, although a small part of him felt that his friend was dodging the true meaning of his words. But, at the moment, there was no need to further question him as his answer was a valid reason. "True." Spock stood up and reached into his pocket and pulled out the King chess piece Kirk gave him earlier. "And in light of earlier events, I must concede. King's to you, Jim."

Kirk laughed wholeheartedly as he caught the King in the air. "You know," he began. "It's been a while since we've played a game of chess. I'll go get the board. If anything, it'll give your mind something to do."

"That would be acceptable."

Spock watched his friend take off to fetch the chess board and remaining pieces. He estimated that Kirk would return in perhaps twenty-six point two minutes, even though it should take less than fifteen minutes to return. Kirk's wandering eye had distracted him more times than even Spock could remember. Chances were good that a female officer would wander into Kirk's line of sight and he'd stop and flirt. In the meantime, Spock began shifting through files on the PADD, reading the latest scientific discoveries.

"In the end, we are all kings and pawns," a voice interrupted Spock's research. He jerked his head in the direction of the sound to see Nero standing, leaning heavily against the wall of his cell. "Hello, Spock."

"Emperor," Spock replied, his voice cautious. He put his PADD down and stepped toward the Romulan. "Pardon me; I do not believe you and I are acquainted."

"No, no we're not," Nero agreed. "At least, not yet," he finished with a laugh.

"Please explain," Spock requested; his head tilted in curiosity.

Nero shook his head. "No, this is more fun."

Spock stared at the Romulan for a few seconds before turning around, with the intention of heading back to his research. There was no logic in pursuing a conversation when the other person refused to speak plainly. He was aware of Nero's gaze on him, glaring at him but he attempted to ignore it. He was not going to allow himself to fall into a trap.

"You really have no clue, do you?" Nero asked, his eyes studying him.

Spock turned around. "To what are you referring?"

Nero shrugged; an action that frustrated Spock. He would never understand why people would say something only to backtrack a moment later and blow it off with a shrug. If there was no intention to actually explain, then why say something in the first place? Spock resisted the urge to sigh, a trait he inherited from his human mother, and turned his attention back to his PADD, refusing to join in Nero's game.

A couple of minutes passed before Nero spoke again, this time with something akin to genuine curiosity in his voice. "Why are you so dedicated to your…traditions?" he asked.

"I assume you are referring to my Vulcan heritage," Spock replied, casting a glance in Nero's direction. "You may have invaded our planet twenty five years ago, killing countless citizens before moving on and taking over the Empire, but you did not destroy our way of life…our spirit, if you will."

Nero scoffed. "You speak as though your people are not the cast outs that they were even _before_ I came here. I studied the history of this place when I made myself Emperor. I am well aware of the second-class citizenship Vulcans endured…well, still endure," Nero finished with a maniacal laugh, referencing the harsh laws placed on Vulcans that stripped them of their rights as citizens as the humans expanded their rule over the known quadrant.

Spock, once again drawn into the conversation despite his best efforts to prevent that from happening, drifted away from the desk where he had been sitting and stood before Nero once again, hands folded behind his back. "Be that as it may, no emperor prior to you has ever committed a crime as heinous as genocide. My people will survive, despite your best attempts to see to it that they do not."

"Your people are in _shambles_ ," Nero emphasized. "Many of them are succumbing to their desires, their violent tendencies…Vulcans and Romulans have more in common than you want to believe. We do share a common ancestor."

"If our species truly are cousins, then why commit genocide?" Spock asked, unable to keep the anger out of his voice.

Nero noticed the anger and smiled, pleased that he was getting to the Vulcan. "I have my reasons." Nero smiled snidely.

Spock was not pleased with Nero's nonchalant behavior. "You will be held accountable for your actions. Starfleet will see to it."

Nero considered the young Vulcan before him. "You're half human, correct? On your mother's side?"

Spock was confused by the sudden change in the conversation. "It is of no concern to you," he replied, not wishing to divulge his life to the man who murdered so many of his people, as well as the mother he had never really known. She had been taken from him when he was but one year old. All he had of her were the memories from his mind melds with his father.

"Perhaps not, but I can smell the human in you…and _on_ you," Nero replied with a smirk. Spock's eyebrow shot up in surprise by Nero's statement. The Romulan chuckled at his reaction. "By this universe's laws, you shouldn't even exist; shouldn't have even been conceived since Vulcan/human relationships are forbidden and if you got caught, you'd be killed, but I suppose… like father, like son," Nero finished with the ancient human expression.

Spock turned away from the Romulan emperor, growing weary at the direction the discussion was taking. Surely, Kirk would be back soon, or they would arrive at the drop off point.

"What would you say if I told you it doesn't have to be like this?" Nero asked, not wanting Spock to leave just yet. "That it doesn't have to be an empire with a sole ruler… that Vulcans and humans could bond without fear of being prosecuted; that you could be with _your_ human without fear."

"I do not believe you," Spock responded, finding it futile to hide that he had a relationship with a human.

"Of course you don't," Nero said, almost as though he pitied the younger man. "This is all you've ever known. But what if it didn't _have_ to be?"

Spock paused for a moment, considering the ramifications of continuing the conversation down this line. "I," he paused. "I would be intrigued."

Nero smiled. "Of course you would."

"Why mention this? What do you hope to accomplish by telling me this information?"

Nero shrugged. "I've grown…tired of it all. But I only ask for one thing."

* * *

"I will see you later." James Kirk offered the young female officer he had crossed paths with his most dashing smile, making her blush almost as red as her operations uniform. "And I will make sure it's a night you will never forget, I guarantee that," he continued to flirt with her.

The woman giggled in response, shyly twisting her blonde hair between her fingers. "Okay," she replied, her voice still filled with mirth.

Kirk backed away from her, chess board in his hand, and smiled once more. "Wait for me."

"Oh, I will," the girl smiled sultrily. With a wave, she turned around and walked down the corridor, her hips swaying suggestively.

Kirk chuckled, quite pleased with himself, his gaze following her until she turned the corner, disappearing out of sight. Still got it. He turned around and resumed his course to the brig. He knew that Spock would more than likely give him a lecture about the time it takes to travel from the brig to his quarters and which path would be the most efficient. He quickened his pace towards the brig. A few moments later and he arrived at the door. They opened with a swoosh and he entered, sweeping his gaze across the room, trying to find Spock.

"I will consider it," Spock's voice filtered through the large room. Kirk turned his attention towards the sound to see Spock standing in front of Nero's cell, the PADD he brought earlier in his hand, his eyes studying it. Kirk was confused. What was his friend talking to Nero, their enemy, about? And what would Spock be 'considering'? What was on that PADD?

Kirk's mind reeled; this was so out of character for Spock, to be standing before their adversary, the one who murdered countless people, as though this was nothing and 'considering' something. This must be a ploy, some way to pry some information from Nero that could be used against him. There was no way Spock would be working with him. It was incomprehensible. Spock would tell him later. He always did.

"That's all I ask," Nero replied to Spock's statement. Spock nodded to Nero before turning back around and walking away. Kirk saw this as his moment and made himself visible, stepping into the room fully. Spock looked in his direction, sat his PADD down and pushed the controls to close the large door to the cell area.

"Jim," Spock acknowledged. "You really must find a more efficient path from your quarters."

Kirk shrugged. "Yeah, whatever." He walked closer to Spock and motioned towards the prison cells. "What did he want?" he asked, casually letting Spock know that he saw him speaking with Nero.

If Kirk didn't know better, he would have thought Spock hesitated in his answer. "The Emperor merely asked me to obtain information regarding his family - ancestors, if his claims of being from the future hold any truth."

He didn't want to believe Spock's answer, it didn't sound like a good reason, but Spock didn't lie. He couldn't. Never had been able to. So, Kirk did the only thing he could right now, accept the answer as truth. "Yeah, the future. I don't believe that either."

He'd check the security feed later.


	3. The New Captain

As Cadet Nyota Uhura eagerly looked out the window of the transport shuttle, the pilot navigated it to a soft landing just outside Shuttle Hanger One. Inside Starfleet's huge hanger, she could see the crew of the ISS _Enterprise_ disembarking from the various shuttlecrafts, carrying their personal belongings and helping unload the ship's cargo. They were finally arriving home after being gone for several months. _He_ was finally returning home. She had been so ecstatic when the bulletin went out the other day, announcing that they accomplished their mission and that the dictator Nero had been apprehended and was being transported back to stand trial. Finally, everything was looking positive for once; a new era would begin and they would be free of tyranny and oppression. She could hardly wait.

They wouldn't have to hide anymore.

She and Lt. Commander Spock had been in a secretive relationship for the past year and a half. Not only was she a mere cadet while he was an officer – as well as her instructor, but Vulcan/Human relationships were banned by law and had been since the dawn of the Empire. Secrecy was a must. Only one other person knew of their forbidden union, James Kirk. She had been hesitant to let Kirk know, not only because the risk to him if she and Spock were discovered was too high, but also because, well, to put it frankly, he annoyed her most of time. But she knew that Spock trusted him implicitly and despite her uncertainty, that was enough for her.

The start of their relationship had begun innocently enough…or perhaps not so innocently. Uhura had taken a class with Spock as her professor. They had gotten along splendidly and worked well together. The next year, Spock had began teaching classes in advanced phonology, along with the other classes already had on his plate, and needed an aide to help with paperwork as he had become inundated. She submitted her application and earned the position. A few late nights here and there in the labs, a meeting or two at his apartment and she realized that they were dancing around each other, this desire they felt for one another.

She had made the first move. One night, after a heated discussion in which they could not agree, she had suddenly kissed him. Spock had been shocked and pushed her away; she had been horrified by her actions. She had tried to apologize, mistaking his actions as rejection. She then tried to leave, but he stopped her, held her hand, mentally linking them temporarily, and told her to stay. As she felt the depth of his feelings for her, she shared hers with him. And little by little, they fell a little further.

When her transport craft landed, she quickly exited, impatient to see her lover. Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find the shuttle he was on. Finally, she spotted him…or rather the top of his head. He was leaving with the other senior officers on the ship, Kirk following behind him. Uhura made her way in their direction, navigating the thick crowd of officers and cadets.

"Excuse me," Uhura cried out as she was trapped in a thick cloud of red and blue. The officers blocking her way ignored her pleas and she, growing frustrated, did the only thing she could and pushed through them, not bothering with niceties. She was girl on a mission.

Finally, she broke her way through the swarm of officers and ran to the clearing before the shuttle. She scanned the crowd, looking for the tall Vulcan. As she realized that he wasn't anywhere to be found, having been lost in the mob, she grew disheartened.

"Hello, Uhura. Nice to see you, too," Kirk's voice, laced with sarcasm, sounded behind her.

She jumped imperceptibly at his voice. She hadn't seen him in her rush to get to Spock. She turned towards him and smiled, apologetically. "Hey, Kirk." Unable to control herself, she turned back around, her eyes once again returning to the crowd. "Where is he?"

Kirk rolled his eyes, sighing. He stepped closer to her and grasped the back of her arm, speaking in her ear so she could hear him over the noise. "You just missed him. Could be a while. Got called into Barnett's office. I think he's in trouble." He tugged her back towards him gently. "Come on, he said he'd meet us on The Rock."

Uhura allowed him to pull her away from the crowd, unable to keep the smile off her face as she and Kirk navigated their way out of the hanger.

* * *

Spock and Sulu stood at attention as Admiral Richard Barnett studied the two men; one tall and lean, belying the physical strength he possessed courtesy of his Vulcan heritage; the other shorter, his physical power clearly evident in the thick muscles on his body. Spock's expression remained calm and peaceful, though anyone who looked closely could see the emotions in his eyes – the only outward sign of his humanity; while Sulu's stormy temperament was clearly evidenced on his face, helped by the long jagged scar that ran down the side of his cheek.

Both men were first-rate officers, with extensive records listing their numerous credentials and battle prowess. Yet Barnett felt a sort of pride over Spock's accomplishments that he did not feel over Sulu or any other officer under his command. He had been the one to recruit him into Starfleet over five years ago and despite Spock's initial reservations, stemming primarily from the fact that he was Vulcan and the prejudices he faced worried him that his work would not be given the consideration he deserved, Barnett had finally succeeded in convincing Spock that Starfleet was ready to change, to be the guiding force the empire needed to overcome their problems. And a few instances notwithstanding, Spock had been able to join Starfleet and work his way up the ranks quickly to become a valuable member of the Fleet. Barnett had high hopes for him.

Admiral Barnett paused in front of the officers. "At ease, gentlemen," he said. The two men relaxed their attention stance, although Spock remained stiffer than Sulu. Barnett cast his gaze in Sulu's direction. "Commander Sulu, what happened to Captain Forrest?"

"Captain Forrest was killed by an explosion during the battle with the iNarada/i, Admiral, sir," Sulu replied quickly. "It is in the report I filed, sir."

"Yes, I know," Barnett replied. "But I prefer to hear reports firsthand, if I can. So you were then Acting Captain. What happened next?"

"I ordered Lieutenant Commander _Spock_ ," Sulu emphasized his name as though it was a dirty word, "not to go down to the planet's surface. He disobeyed me."

Barnett turned his eyes to Spock, who remained stoic. "Commander Spock, is this true?"

"I did what was necessary for completion of the mission, Admiral," Spock replied coolly.

Sulu turned on him, unable to keep his anger inside any longer. "You nerve-pinched me! On the bridge! Then you took members of my crew to do your bidding."

Spock raised his eyebrow at Sulu's outrage. "Like I said, Commander, I did what I believe was necessary." He ignored Sulu's angry glare and turned to Barnett. "I acted alone, sir. I ordered Lieutenant Kirk and the tactical officers to join me on the planet. I am aware that I disobeyed orders from a commanding officer and will accept all responsibility for my actions, sir."

"You damn well should," Sulu muttered under his breath. "It was all his idea, sir."

Barnett took a deep breath and turned his back to his officers. He walked to the window and gazed out, thinking. Spock and Sulu kept their eyes on him, curious as to what he would decide. A moment later, he turned back to them. He leveled his gaze on Sulu before speaking. "It should have been _your_ idea," he said.

Barnett was aware of his reputation for steadfast adhesion to the chain of command and orders, so he was not surprised by Sulu's jaw dropping, nearly to the floor. His statement was out of the ordinary for him. Sulu fumbled over his words for a second, trying to find the right ones to get him out of this situation. "Sir, I did not believe the risk was worth it. We had disabled their ship; the emperor fled in an escape pod, the planet had a poisonous atmosphere. At that time, we had no information that proved that the Romulans could escape. I was protecting the crew. I did not believe it was worth the risk to go down there without all the information."

"You were protecting yourself," Barnett admonished, "by hiding behind your rank and staying aboard the ship. Had Spock not gone down there, Nero would have escaped and the whole mission would have failed. All because you were scared of a little fog." He stepped closer to his subordinates. "We're fighting a war we must win, gentlemen. There has to be a better way to live than this damn oppression we've had for years. And the only way we are going to accomplish it is if someone is willing step outside the confines of the chain of command and does what's needed, no matter the risk."

Sulu desperately tried to grasp at words that would not come, his distress obvious to both Barnett and Spock. This was not going the way he wanted it to. He struggled desperately to explain himself but without the words, he was left standing, his mouth hanging open.

"Computer," Barnett spoke, unconsciously tilting his gaze up towards the ceiling as he spoke to the computer system. "Record." He waited a moment for the computer to acknowledge his request before speaking again. "Lieutenant Commander Spock, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain for your dedication to the mission and your willingness to put your life on the line to complete it."

The only sign of Spock's surprise at this turn of events was the slight widening of his eyes. Sulu's rage was more obvious. He seethed, his angry gaze flitting between Spock and Barnett. He stepped towards the Admiral, as though he was attempting to be threatening. "You're demoting me?"

Barnett chuckled as he shook his head. "No, there is no demotion, Commander. You will remain first officer of the Enterprise under Captain Spock. Unless, of course, you wish to request a transfer," he finished with a smirk. "Dismissed."

After glowering at Barnett and Spock for a few seconds, Sulu quickly turned on his heels and stormed out of the admiral's office. Spock turned and watched him leave, before nodding to Pike in respect and walking towards the door.

"Oh, Spock," Barnett called out before Spock could leave.

The Vulcan turned slowly. "Yes, Admiral?"

Finally, unable to prevent it, Barnett broke out in a huge smile. "Congratulations… _Captain_. You did well."

Spock's eyebrow rose once more in reaction to the Admiral's comment, the only visible sign of confusion he ever allowed himself. "As I stated earlier, sir, I did what was necessary."

"That you did," Barnett replied. He stepped forward, his eyes scanning the room to make sure they were truly alone. "I imagine there is a certain young cadet who will be pleased to know of your accomplishment today and what it entails for the future of the Empire…particularly _your_ future. With her."

Spock's eyes widened perceptibly, in shock. Normally, he would be mum regarding his relationship with the cadet in question – as he is with most of his personal relationships – yet Admiral Barnett could see that his obvious knowledge worried the Vulcan. He didn't believe it was because Spock didn't trust him. Quite the opposite, in fact. Barnett realized that Spock was nervous because, if he knew, then the possibility that others knew, including those who may harbor ill intentions towards them, rose exponentially. The Admiral knew that he was calculating the odds in that giant brain of his and couldn't really fault him for it.

Nor could Barnett fault him when he tried to mislead him. "I am unsure of who you are referring to."

Barnett chuckled. He cut to the chase, ignoring Spock's comment. "I don't know the extent of your relationship with the cadet and frankly, I don't care to. Discounting everything else, she is still just a cadet and you are an officer. You are just as aware as I am of the rules regarding fraternization, not to mention half a dozen other reasons why this is a bad idea right now, so I'm not going to quote them." Barnett shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "Maybe I'm just a romantic at heart. Maybe I'm growing tired of following the rules," he chuckled before growing serious. He could tell that Spock was still tense – well, more tense than usual – and rushed to reassure the Vulcan. "But don't worry; I am confident that no one else is aware of it. I just happen to know you better than most other people. Just…be careful."

Spock nodded, releasing his breath, relief in his actions. He avoided the Admiral's gaze, telling Barnett that he was still nervous about the prospect of being found out before it was safe, but what was done was done. "Thank you, sir."

Barnett smiled once more. "Go on," he urged. "Get out of here."

Spock acknowledged the Admiral once more before turning on his heels and exiting the office.


	4. On the Rock

"Make love to me, Beulah."

Kirk was sitting on the ground, leaning lazily against the concrete wall, feet stretched out before him facing the serene San Francisco Bay. He turned and tilted his head up to look at Uhura on his left, a smile on his face. Her back was against the wall as her eyes scanned the PADD in her hands, studying for an exam.

She and Kirk were on The Rock, officially known as Alcatraz Island, overlooking the bay. Originally used to house a prison where isolation reigned supreme several centuries ago, today, the island was now primarily used as a nature reserve for the unique species native to the island due to the remote location. In the past, tours had been given for those who wished to explore firsthand the history of the site, but by the early 22nd century, the tourism had all but ended as the small island was mostly left to its own devices, so to speak.

Spock, Uhura and Kirk had been using the island as a meeting place for the last year. At a mile and a half away from the mainland of San Francisco, The Rock was just far enough away when they wished to be alone yet close enough to quickly arrive back to Starfleet should the need arise. Kirk had come to learn of the island's existence when he was a cadet. He had 'inherited' the knowledge from a graduating cadet who told him it was the perfect place to 'get away from it all' – code word for entertaining women. He had seized the opportunity and had more than his fair share of trysts with women on the island. He had eagerly shared the place with Spock, who, despite his initial reservations, had shown Uhura.

At Kirk's words, Uhura's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Ugh," she gagged, her attention pulled from her studies. "Not even close." Turning her head to look at the ever present thorn in her side, she sighed heavily. "Will you ever give up? On both counts?"

Kirk shrugged. It was worth a shot. Ever since he met her in the bar in Iowa a little over two years ago while on a recruiting mission he had made it his goal to win her over. There was a small part of him that was unwilling to admit that he was jealous of Spock's relationship with Uhura. He was James T. Kirk; he could have any woman he wanted. Any woman, except Uhura. Spock, who hadn't even been looking for love, moved in and swept the one woman he could never sway off her feet, despite knowing Kirk's desire for her.

"Probably not," Kirk responded matter-of-factly to Uhura's question. He turned a smile to her. "But that's why you love me."

She scoffed. "Hardly."

He chuckled, knowing that was coming. Nonchalantly, he ran his hand up her arm, under the guise of brushing off some lint. "Come on, he wouldn't know. It'd be our little secret," he said conspiratorially. The smirk never left his face, telling Uhura that despite his words, he wasn't entirely serious. Only a little.

She glared at him. "I don't believe in secrets."

"Oh, that's why you keep your name a secret from everyone else but Spock?" Kirk asked, trying to make her crack, but she remained silent, suddenly focusing her attention back to her PADD in a feeble attempt to try and stop the conversation. Kirk, realizing he that might have taken it too far, backtracked. "I'm sorry…I get it." And really, he did, even if he liked to annoy her about it. "It's a boundary thing; can't let anyone get too close, right? Well, asides from Spock…"

She nodded, mumbling her affirmation; her gaze still on the PADD. Kirk remained silent, looking out to across the bay. A flock of seagulls flew around; some of them fluttering down, snatching up fish. On the other side of the island, in the direction of the Golden Gate Bridge, the sun was beginning its descent, coloring the rock with rich reds and oranges.

"You think Spock doesn't have secrets?"

Uhura's attention remained focused on the translation on her PADD. She had been expecting Kirk to speak again, knowing that he wouldn't simply let something go. "Not from me, he doesn't," she replied evenly.

"He does, ask him."

She shook her head. "He doesn't keep secrets from me. I don't keep secrets from him."

He shrugged, "Okay, if you say so."

She rolled her eyes, tossing the PADD down and crossing her arms over her chest. She turned to Kirk, "You know, having grown up being friends with Spock, you seem to actually know very little about Vulcans."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "The whole touch telepathy thing? Mind melds?"

Kirk nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, I know about mind melds. I've seen what Spock can do with them. He can manipulate people; pull information from them and whatnot. It seems kind of dangerous." A second later, "He uses them on you?" His eyes widened at the thought.

"It's not the same thing," she reassured him. "I know out in the field, it might seem ruthless, but between us it's gentle, intimate." She stressed the last word. Ignoring Kirk's slight grimace at the thought, she continued. "He never looks into my mind without my permission, but I don't hide anything from him and he never hides anything from me. I'd know if he did. He doesn't."

Kirk thought for a moment, letting this information wash over him while trying not to let his mind wander to the more 'intimate' moments between Uhura and Spock. "But he'd be more skilled with those telepathy things than you right? Being able to do them inherently?"

"Right, what's your point?"

"He could probably block something from you…" he trailed off as she glared at him, silently demanding that he explain where he was going with this. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I just never thought of mind melds being anything more than a weapon we could use on the enemy."

Uhura, unable to concentrate any longer, pulled herself to her feet. She walked to the edge of the walkway, arms crossed over her chest. "I know what you want."

"Oh, you do?" His voice was tinged with a hint of faux curiosity. He knew that she was perfectly aware of his intentions, always had been. She'd just been excellent at avoiding them. But, if at first you don't succeed…well, just keep trying; someday you may just whittle their defenses down.

She remained quiet for a moment, looking across the bay. Sighing, shaking her head slightly, she turned around, a small wry smile on her face. "I'm not going to be your next conquest, James."

"Oh," he replied, grabbing his chest as though he was in pain. "You wound me with your words." She was unable to keep the laugh from bubbling to the surface. He beamed, pleased with himself. He stood and walked towards her. "What if I were to change to be with you?"

She smiled, finding his charm adorable despite herself. She rolled her eyes, giggling. "We both know that would never happen, Jim. You are who you are and that's enough for Spock. And me, I guess. Even if you are the most annoying man I have ever met," she assured him, yet giving him a fake glare.

He smiled in response, knowing that she was teasing him, but decided to milk it. "Hey, it could happen," he replied, his tone artificially defensive.

Laughter bubbled from her. "Even if that were remotely possible, I'd still say no." Her tone shifted from mirth to seriousness. "I love him, completely."

"I know," Kirk mumbled.

She continued. "And I know he doesn't show it very well, but I know he loves me. And as soon as that damned law is abolished and I graduate we're going to be bonded."

Kirk leaned against the rail next to Uhura, suddenly serious. Bonded. Now that was a word Kirk had heard before. As he understood it, being bonded required some sort of mental connection but as Uhura had said earlier, he didn't really know much about Vulcans. But he had heard the word in relation to marriage, but being more so. They would be connected, utterly, completely. Forever.

He swallowed thickly. It was suddenly becoming all too real. He had always known that Spock and Uhura would take their relationship to the next level if the law had allowed them to even be together without fear, yet he had secretly hoped that one day she would grow tired of waiting and come to him. He hated himself for thinking that, but he could no longer deny it to himself now that things really were changing. "It could take years before that happens. You're willing to wait?"

Uhura sighed softly. "Yes, I am," she replied with conviction and no hesitation.

Kirk shook his head. "Maybe I'm an impatient man. But I couldn't wait that long for you."

"James," she pleaded, not wanting to go down this path again.

Kirk caught her desperation. "Not that I would ever get married," he added off-handedly not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He may want more than friendship between the two of them, but he certainly didn't want to alienate her and Spock.

The two fell into a companionable silence, Uhura facing the bay, watching the shadow of the island grow larger as the sun set lower and lower behind them, while Kirk stood with his back leaning against the rail, facing toward the inside of the island. In front of him stood the tall abandoned prison cells from years past, the winding dilapidated pathway surrounded with plant-life, long forgotten, that had grown wild.

Suddenly, Uhura straightened herself and peered down to the water, having seen movement. "Look!" she cried out brightly, pointing towards the dock. "There he is!"

Kirk turned to his head to her to see the direction she was pointing out. He looked to see Spock tying the small speedboat he had taken to The Rock next to the one he and Uhura had taken. Having been abandoned years ago, there was no other way to the island other than manual transportation. It was not the most efficient method of travel and it took longer, but it also ensured their privacy on the island.

Laughing, Uhura ran down the overgrown pathway towards her lover. Spock, having caught sight of her, quickened his pace to meet her. Kirk lingered behind, not wanting to stand around awkwardly during their reunion.

As Uhura reached Spock, he held his right hand out, two fingers extended. She, in turn, mimicked him and touched her fingers against his, forming the _ozh'esta_ , a move that had always confused Kirk but, now he assumed had to with touch telepathy. He didn't want to know what they were transmitting.

From the _ozh'esta_ , Spock grasped Uhura's hand fully and pulled her close. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. She inhaled deeply, allowing her eyes to drift closed, enjoying the feeling of being in Spock's arms once more after so long apart.

As Uhura tilted her head up and kiss Spock gently, Kirk averted his eyes. It was more for their privacy than anything else. He knew that Spock was stepping out of his comfort-zone by being openly affectionate with her but, if he was being completely honest with himself; there was a slight case of the green-eyed monster hovering around.

"I missed you so much," Uhura whispered against Spock's lips, kissing him once more. "I was so worried about you."

"And I you, _k'diwa_ ," he replied. "But there is no longer reason to."

Kirk turned away from the scene, the feeling of being the third wheel taking over. He wished he had a beer. Anything to make this moment more comfortable for him.

Uhura pulled back slightly from Spock, concern on his face. "You were with Barnett for a while. Are you in trouble?"

Spock shook his head. "No, I am not. I am captain now." He turned on his heel, holding a confused Uhura's hand and walked towards Kirk.

"Jim," Spock said with as much enthusiasm as he could carry. "Admiral Barnett gave me the _Enterprise_."

Shocked, flabbergasted at this turn of events, Kirk jerked away from the railing to stand straight. This wasn't supposed to happen. Sure, Spock did the right thing in going against Sulu's orders but Kirk never imagined it would lead to a promotion, by two ranks.

"Spock!" Uhura exclaimed in glee.

Kirk stood staring at the two of them, not quite grasping these turns of events. Spock faced his friend, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. "I believe you could now say that the King is mine, Jim."

Kirk chuckled, though it lacked humor, more sardonic in nature. "Well," he said, clicking his tongue. "You really do have the best luck, don't you?"

If Uhura noticed Kirk's sudden shift in mood, she gave no indication, her attention solely centered on her lover. Kirk was aware that Spock, however, had detected the mood shift. He felt the Vulcan's eyes burning into him, studying his actions, when he bent down and picked up his uniform jacket. "Jim?" Spock asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

Kirk did not respond, nor did he toss Spock the King as he walked down the path towards the docks. He knew he was being unfair, but he was unable to suppress his feelings of shock and… the disappointment he felt.

Ignoring Uhura pulling on his arm urging him to follow her, Spock called out to Kirk. Without turning around, Kirk tossed over his shoulder, "Go celebrate with Uhura."

* * *

Spock, still perplexed, watched his best friend morosely tread the pathway, walking further away from them. He did not understand why Kirk withdrew from him, why he did not share the enthusiasm of Uhura or himself. Wasn't that what friends did? Be proud of the others' accomplishments? Spock knew that had the situation been reversed, he would have felt pride for Kirk. Perhaps there was something else at play here, something he was not aware of. Spock supposed it was probable, but he did not have enough information to go on.

Uhura's voice broke into his thoughts, trying once more to urge him to follow him, a laugh on her voice. As she tugged his arm once more, he succumbed to her, allowing her to lead him up the walkway. He decided not to let Kirk's dour mood get in the way of what was his reunion with Uhura. They had been apart for so long, so much longer than they ever had before and he wanted to spend the time he had with her with happiness on his mind, not negativity or worry.

But as he followed the ecstatic young woman around the island, he found he was still unable to shake the feeling that something had forever changed between him and Kirk.

Just how much things had changed and how they would affect their lives would soon become clear.


	5. Secrets

Laughing, Uhura rolled off Spock and onto the bed in the Warden's House, the only building left on the island that wasn't a complete pile of rubble. Somehow, it had escaped ruination, possibly through the caring hands of other students who may have used the island over the years for…'extracurricular' activities. Spock and Uhura refused to dwell on the reasons why, as they were sure they didn't want to know the answer and they never asked Kirk the details when he told them of the place. Nevertheless, the building was relatively unharmed, though it lacked amenities such as electricity and running water. But, it had been a place where they could be together without fear of being caught.

"I assume your laughter is a positive sign rather than negative," Spock mildly boasted, rolling with her, carefully balancing above her to keep his weight from crushing her. He leaned down to press open mouth kisses along her long, slender neck as she laughed softly, running her hands through his bedraggled hair.

"You know it is," she sighed happily. She giggled again, unable to keep it inside. "Wow," she exhaled. "That was…" she fumbled for a word to describe their lovemaking. "…wow."

Spock continued his exploration of her body, trailing his lips to her collarbone, down to her breasts, the tiniest of smirks on his face. "I am pleased you are satisfied, Nyota."

"Oh," she replied, pulling his face up to meet hers. "I am more than _just_ satisfied." She brought his lips down to meet hers. Spock eagerly accepted the kiss, pressing her more firmly into the soft mattress beneath them as he deepened it. The kiss grew more fevered and more passionate by the second, as the lovers desperately grasped each other. After many months apart, they did not dare to separate so easily.

A few moments later, Uhura pulled away from Spock, drawing in deep breaths. He rested his forehead against hers and they both caught their breaths after being caught in the moment. Uhura smiled, teasingly. "If it's going to be like this every time you go away, maybe you should leave more often."

Spock pulled back from her, his left eyebrow nearly rising to his hairline and he looked down at her. "Surely you jest."

She giggled; this was the reaction she wanted. She lifted her hand to touch his brow. "Someday, your eyebrow is going to get stuck like that."

"That is _highly_ illogical," he stressed good-naturedly, his brow rising once more to her glee.

He leaned into her once more, drawing her in for another deep kiss and effectively silencing her laughter. With his lips still on hers, he held her to him, rolling once more to lie on his back with her stretched out on top of him. A moment later, after breath became an issue, they pulled apart and settled into a comfortable silence. She rested her head against his chest and he twirled long strands of her hair, enjoying the feel of it between his fingers. She sighed contentedly, her eyes drifting closed.

As they enjoyed the bliss of the evening, Uhura felt her mind wander, unwillingly, back to Kirk's words; his insistence that Spock was hiding something. She hated that she let that man get to her sometimes. She didn't believe for a second that Spock would keep something from her but Kirk had planted the thought in her head and now it bubbled to the surface.

"Do you keep secrets from me?" she asked softly, caressing the skin on his chest, fingers combing through his chest hair.

"Secrets?" he asked; confusion in his voice. "No. Why?" She turned her head, propping her chin on the back of her hand, looking into his eyes. He caught her gaze, tilting his head as he does when he is attempting to solve a puzzle. "Ask me anything, Nyota. I will tell you whatever you wish me to."

She pushed herself off his chest and straddled him, her gaze drifting downwards, a tiny smile crossing her features. She knew he would never keep something from her and she felt embarrassed for even allowing Kirk from poisoning her thoughts against him.

Spock sat up, his hand cupping her face, worry evident in his eyes. "The wait is nearly over," he whispered, misinterpreting her questions about secrets as worry over their impending bonding. "As soon as the law forbidding our union is abolished, we shall be able to have our bonding cere-"

She shook her head emphatically. "I don't need the ceremony, I don't," she stressed, stroking his pointed ears. "I know you've heard that every human girl dreams about her wedding ceremony, but I don't need it. I don't need all the bells and whistles, the white dress. Just you," she declared, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Nevertheless, the bonding ceremony is a sacred tradition among my people," he explained.

"Can't we just….elope?" She looked into his eyes, searching. "I don't want to wait any longer."

"I share your desire to bond, Nyota," Spock affirmed. "But being bonded means more than the traditional human marriage. We will forever be linked, mentally; able to feel the other's emotions in a way you have yet to undergo," he explained, referring to the mind melds and links they experienced on a regular occurrence during their lovemaking and quiet moments together. "It is an experience unlike no other, or so I am told."

"I just don't want to be separated from you ever again," she admitted.

"But the ritual is also dangerous if it is done incorrectly," he stressed, running his hands down her back, kneading the flesh at her thighs. "My father will work to locate a suitable elder who is willing to perform the ceremony for us. I will not risk your mind by hastily seeing less skilled telepaths." He finished, looking deep in her eyes.

She breathed heavily, tears forming in her eyes. "Spock." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Please," she whispered against his lips.

He brought his hands to the side of her face, fingers finding her psi points and entered her mind gently, just as he had done many times before. Suddenly they were bathed in emotions; the feelings of one another swirling around them. It was always a remarkable feeling. She leaned in and kissed him. He responded enthusiastically, lowering her to the bed, holding his weight on his elbows. They succumbed to their desires and gave themselves to one another, wholly and completely.

* * *

James Kirk slammed the shot glass on the table. He grimaced, the alcohol sliding down his throat, burning. He hadn't been able to sleep. His mind was working on overdrive. Intellectually, he knew he should be happy for Spock, for his promotion and the subsequent marriage between him and Uhura. Yet Kirk was struck with an irrational anger, intense anger, directed at Spock.

The stars always seemed to align in Spock's favor; and he always got what Kirk wanted, without even having to bat an eyelash.

Kirk had never told Spock that the only way Admiral Pike had been able to persuade him to join Starfleet was because he was told he could get his own ship in three years. It had now been five years and he was still only a Lieutenant while Spock had shot up the ranks and was now Captain. Spock never had a desire to be Captain. But Kirk…he did. He craved it. The prestige, the power…the women.

The women. Kirk had never been shy about his love of the fairer sex. He craved them like he craved the captaincy. He could turn on the charm and the dashing smile and they would fall at his feet, smitten. Any woman he wanted, he could have. Well, all, save one. Cadet Uhura, first name unknown.

From the moment he saw her in the bar in Iowa, just after she had been recruited, ordering more drinks than a typical woman would have been able to handle, Kirk knew she would become his latest project. He turned on the charm, cracked a smile and attempted to woo her like he had done many times in the past with different women. This time, however, he had been rebuked. But Kirk was not one to be easily discouraged.

He continued to try and charm her in that bar. On the transport shuttle back to the academy. At the academy. Little did he know that she would turn from merely a 'project,' a puzzle to be solved and conquered, to the one woman who would capture his heart in a way that no other had done before. _He_ had become the smitten.

Sure, she was a cadet and technically off limits, but one could surmise that those rules were put in place primarily to prevent favoritism between professor and student, a loophole. And he certainly was not her professor.

Although, Spock...Spock was...

As Kirk continued his fruitless attempts to woo Uhura, Spock would sometimes be at his side, disapproving of his actions, saying his name in a scolding manner. Little did Kirk know that a clandestine courtship was occurring after hours in the darkened language labs, playing out almost like a Shakespearean play, between the object of his affection and his best friend. Kirk was aware that she was Spock's teaching assistant, but he had never suspected a romantic relationship between them until one day he stumbled into Spock's quarters, drunk off his ass, to see the Vulcan and human woman locked in an embrace.

He had initially shrugged it off, believing that he was seeing things, courtesy of the alcohol. But when he was confronted and begged to keep silent, he realized the gravity of the situation: they had become lovers. And Kirk was left watching the only woman who had claimed his heart fall head over heels in love with his best friend.

And he had kept silent.

Spock, the stoic Vulcan - technically half-Vulcan - won her heart without even trying. There had to be something he was missing. Something that would explain how that had happened. Kirk never lost. Not when it came to women. And never against Spock. If only he could put his finger on what made this different.

"Mind if we join you?" a gruff voice broke into Kirk's thoughts. He looked to his side to see Dr. Leonard McCoy, known as Bones. He had been known to share a drink every now and then with the doctor but he wasn't what Kirk would call a friend. Kirk respected him as he had proven his worth as a stupendous battlefield surgeon on the _Enterprise_ , but his xenophobic comments were slightly off-putting for Kirk. Standing beside McCoy was none other than their superior officer, Commander Sulu, a man he was even less likely to call a friend.

Curious as to what brought them to his table, Kirk glanced between the two men, both of whom were known for possessing short tempers, and nodded. "Sure, take a seat."

They pulled the spare chairs out, feet scraping against the floor, and sat down heavily. McCoy reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, opening it and filling Kirk's shot glass before pouring the blue liquid into his and Sulu's glasses. Romulan Ale, the most intoxicating beverage in the Empire.

Kirk eyed the blue beverage in his glass, warily. He had never imbibed Romulan Ale before, not wanting to lose complete control of his actions. He watched McCoy and Sulu quickly gulp their shot without hesitation and followed suit. He was never one to be outdone. Swallowing thickly, he tried to suppress the cough but was unable to. The ale was more intense than he had expected. "Gentlemen," he asked his voice hoarse. "What can I do for you?"

McCoy refilled the glasses and Sulu quickly downed his again, slamming the glass on the table. Sulu growled, clearly still upset at what occurred in Barnett's office. He had never made secret his disdain for Spock or for his position in the fleet and getting passed over for promotion was not sitting well with him. Kirk turned to McCoy, waiting for an answer. Nothing.

Kirk sighed. He might as well be twiddling his thumbs, talking to a wall. McCoy silently continued to refill their glasses. "Well," Kirk tried again. "It's been an interesting day."

Sulu snorted. Kirk looked to him, hoping that someone would finally tell him what they wanted. But sensing that Sulu was not going to offer up an answer, Kirk turned to McCoy. "Well? You guys gonna tell me what you want?"

McCoy studied him, keeping their glasses full. "How did you ever become friends with that righteous, green-blooded, pointy-eared hobgoblin?"

Kirk froze. He probably should have expected Spock to come up in the conversation, especially as Sulu was still holding a grudge, but he was still caught by surprise. Under normal circumstances, he would probably berate McCoy for referring to Spock in such a manner, but after the events of the day, he let it slide. He swallowed his ale and studied the glass, his thoughts drifting. He shrugged. "He claims to be my friend, but…"

McCoy and Sulu leaned in closer, metaphorically perking up at Kirk's gloomy mood. "But, what?" Sulu asked.

Kirk shook his head, beginning to feel the effects of the ale. He took a deep breath to clear his head. "He keeps hiding something from me. Secrets."

"Secrets?" McCoy asked curiosity in his voice.

Kirk looked up, noticing the two men leaning in, eyes watching him intently, waiting with eagerness for him to continue. He gulped, almost audibly. Where was this going?


	6. False Arrests

Nyota Uhura stood in Sarek's home, her eyes scanning the interior, taking in every nook and cranny, every individual aspect that made it unique to him. She had been here before, although not often and only twice officially as Spock's intended. Sarek had been aware that Uhura was Spock's teaching assistant and a friend at the Academy but nothing more. Until recently. Spock had decided to take the step to inform his father of the true nature of his relationship with Uhura a few weeks ago.

Uhura was surprised by how well Sarek took the news. But then, she supposed she should have expected it. He too had been secretly involved in a romantic relationship with a human woman once – Spock's mother, Amanda. Like father, like son, apparently. Spock had told Uhura that his parents met while on Vulcan; his mother there on humanitarian efforts. Sparks, as humans would say, flew and Sarek and Amanda found themselves in an affair.

But then, Nero struck a few years after Spock was born. Sarek managed to escape the mass killings on Vulcan with his toddler son in tow, but Amanda never made it. She dissipated while she was being transported; the technician had not been able to get a lock on her signal fast enough. Sarek, distraught over the loss of Amanda, carried his young son to Earth where they lived in the Vulcan colony created by refugees, those who had managed to escape Nero's grasp. Sarek held fast to the ways of their ancestors believing it was the key to survival on this world even while the rest of his people succumbed to their basic instincts, driven to ignore their logic by the cruel treatment they received by the Empire.

Uhura sighed, her hand reaching up to rub her temples. Her head was aching. She didn't get headaches often and usually never without a reason. A cool hand reached out to touch the back of her neck, rubbing softly. Spock. She sighed, leaning into his touch.

"You are in pain," he whispered, his hand gently rubbing circles on her neck.

"Just a little headache," she confirmed, eyes drifting closed. How he could always read her signs amazed her. He was better at reading people than others gave him credit for, even better than he gave _himself_ for. Or perhaps it was just her that he was good at reading?

Uhura heard him shift his position and stand in front of her. His hands trailed from her neck to her head, gently soothing away the pain. His hands found her thick ponytail, held high on her head. "I have informed you before that your tendency to wear your hair in such a fashion is placing a strain on your neck muscles."

She shook her head gently. "No, it's not that," she replied. "Not this time."

"Nevertheless," his voice faded and he deftly pulled her hair free of its confines, allowing it to flow down across her shoulders and down her back. "It cannot be helping to reduce your headache." His hands combed through her hair, soothingly. He leaned in closely and whispered. "I prefer your hair in this state in any case."

Uhura sighed, a smile on her face. This was definitely helping. She was unable to prevent her body from leaning into his touch. "I had a routine physical today," she told him, explaining the source of her pain. "Made me do a brain scan. Those things always give me headaches."

Spock nodded. "I trust my attempts to relieve your pain are working as intended?"

"Oh, yes, definitely." She made a sound that almost resembled a moan.

Spock continued to alleviate her pain, gently massaging her scalp, her temples, combing through her hair. She rested her forehead against his chest, her hands gripping the sides of his unzipped uniform jacket, and leaned heavily into him. They stood like this for while; she was unsure of how long exactly, most likely minutes though it felt like hours. The sudden sound of a door closing in the other room and footsteps brought them to reality and they stepped apart out of courtesy for Sarek.

"I have some news which the two of you may be pleased to hear," Sarek spoke, entering the room with his hands behind his back, rigid as ever.

His eyes scanned over the couple, standing closely together, her hair around her shoulders rather than up and his son's uniform jacket undone. Very imperceptibly Uhura swore she saw and eyebrow lift and she was also sure that he was aware that he had interrupted something. But he said nothing. Pretending he didn't see anything most likely. Spock stepped towards his father, his stance mimicking Sarek's.

"What news have you acquired, Father?" he asked.

"I have made contact with an Elder who is willing to perform the bonding ceremony for the two of you," he imparted. Quick and to the point. Trust a Vulcan to never beat around the bush.

Uhura was unable to keep the smile from forming on her face at this news. Finally. They had been searching for what felt like forever as far as she was concerned. Sarek had appointed himself in charge of finding a suitable telepath since learning of their desire to be bonded. Spock looked to her, his smile not on his face, but in his eyes.

"Thank you, Father," he replied, his voice flat and calm, but both Sarek and Uhura could see the happiness in his eyes.

"Elder T'Pau informed me that she will be willing to assist the two of you and perform the ceremony whenever it is possible," Sarek elaborated.

Uhura was unable to prevent her glee from bubbling to the surface. She laughed, throwing her arms around Spock's neck and kissing his cheek. Sarek's eyebrow rose – clearly Spock acquired this quirk from his father – at her actions. She saw a faint green blush coloring Spock's face and he dropped his gaze from his father out of embarrassment. He pulled her arms from around his neck and took a step away from her. Normally, Uhura would have felt chastised by his actions and embarrassed by her own, but she knew he was attempting to regain control of himself. She was so happy she didn't care at the moment.

Once Uhura had calmed down and the situation diffused a little, Sarek spoke once more. "Your mother and I had never been able to bond. I must admit, I am pleased that the two of you will be able to share something that we were not." He stepped towards his son. "Your mother would be proud, Spock."

Spock nodded. Uhura knew there was a large part of him that wished he had known his mother. All he had of her were the memories from the mind melds with his father but those could never replace firsthand knowledge. "Thank you, Father."

"Now, let us partake in dinner." Sarek motioned towards the dining room, where their meal was waiting.

Together, the three of them made their way to the table when, suddenly, there was a loud crash outside the house. Their attentions diverted to the front door where they heard screaming. Spock turned to his father and fiancée. "Stay here."

He moved towards the door in a move to investigate but soon found there was no need. The front door was forcibly opened and a large group of men dressed as Starfleet officers entered, phaser rifles at the ready. Spock brought himself to his full height and stepped towards the men. "Please explain your actions." He had phrased it as a suggestion but his rigid posture and tense voice signaled his true meaning.

"Captain Spock," one of the men started. "You are under arrest by order of Admiral Pike."

Uhura's jaw dropped in shock. She felt Sarek grow tense beside her. Spock's eyes narrowed in anger. "Arrest?" she asked with disbelief in her voice, bringing the attention of the officers. Their eyes focused on her, wondering what a human woman was doing among Vulcans. Their stares shifted from curiosity to unnerving in their intensity.

Spock noticed their wavering attentions and stepped in front of her, shielding her from their eyes. "On what charges?" His voice was cold, his eyes glaring daggers into the men.

Their attention deflected from Uhura, the officers focused on the man in front of her. "That information is classified," the leader replied haughtily.

That comment did not placate Spock. He walked forward, with as much control as he could. "I order you to answer the question, Lieutenant," he calmly said, pulling rank.

Uhura heard rather than saw the lieutenant snort. "No can do, Captain," he said. A second later, "Arrest him."

The men swarmed on Spock, engulfing him. On instinct, Uhura grabbed his jacket, in a futile effort to keep him with her. She knew that he was physically capable of bringing down these men singlehandedly but under the circumstances, it was better to follow the men and not risk a scene putting him into more trouble than he already was, no matter how false. He managed to turn towards Uhura and reach for her hand, grasping tightly. "Go to Admiral Barnett," he told her, quickly. "He knows."

Before Uhura could ask him what exactly Barnett knew, his hand was pulled from hers and he was forcibly dragged across the room. Still, despite the situation his voice was calm. "Do not worry, Father. This is a mistake, I assure you. I will rectify the situation immediately and will return tonight."

As she watched Spock being manhandled out of the house, Uhura felt tears burning behind her eyes. This could not be happening, not now, not after everything. Not after he just saved the empire from the tyrant Nero. She dropped to her knees unable to stand up anymore, the adrenaline having left her system, leaving her shaken. Sarek drew close to her and placed a hand on her shoulder in an awkward attempt to comfort her. His actions broke the dam and the tears fell, despite her best attempts to keep them at bay.

As Uhura took deep shuddering breaths, her hands angrily swiped at the tears in a desperate attempt to pull herself back together. Her eyes focused on the door lying in shambles on the floor. Soon she regained control and stood once more. There was something she needed to do and she could not do it lying on the ground, a blubbering mess.

She needed to talk to Admiral Barnett.

* * *

After having been forcibly removed from his father's home, Spock found himself standing in Admiral Pike's office. Despite being the admiral that had persuaded Kirk to join Starfleet, Spock had never had personal contact with him and as such, was not knowledgeable of his character. Kirk spoke highly of him and often, but to be honest, in his current situation and with the knowledge that it was under Pike's orders that he was arrested, Spock did not believe he would see the admiral in the same light.

A few minutes later, door opened and a man Spock presumed was Admiral Pike stepped in. He was a tall, slender man, hair sprinkled with gray, signaling his experience. Spock had to admit that he appeared approachable and friendly, but given the circumstances, it could only be an illusion, designed to lull him into a false sense of security. Pike must have been unaware that Vulcans do not intimidate easily, but given that Spock was the only one in Starfleet, it was to be expected.

As Spock studied him, Pike glanced at him, his eyes sweeping over the Vulcan. He walked to his desk and picked up a PADD, quickly scanning it and before looking back to Spock. The information must have been Spock's notable service records, judging from the impressed look on his face. Finally he spoke. "Well, I must say, Captain Spock, you certainly don't have the look of a traitor."

Spock's brow rose. Traitor? The charge would explain the sudden removal from his father's home and this hastily put together meeting with the admiral. Starfleet and the Empire took treason seriously and often times there were no court martial beyond the meeting with the commanding officers, particularly if evidence was damning. If an admiral or the current commanding officer believed that treason was being committed, they were at liberty to do what they pleased in regards to the punishment, which could range anywhere from time in The Booth, a kind of torture chamber, to death. It was a barbaric system to be sure and Spock was sure that there had been times the accused truly were innocent. He, at least, had experience in that department. He said nothing in response to the admiral's comment. There was nothing to be said until he had more information.

"Now," Admiral Pike started, taking a seat behind his large desk. Spock remained standing, hands folded behind his back, eyes straight ahead. "I expect you to answer my questions truthfully as your very life may depend on it."

"Vulcans do not lie, sir," Spock provided.

Pike nodded his approval. "Very well," he replied. "I'll hold you to that. Were you aware that Nero escaped two days ago?"

Perplexed, Spock shook his head. He didn't recall receiving word of such news. It was disturbing to say the least, all of their work done for nothing. But he was still unsure of what this had to do with him and the charges levied against him. "No, sir, I was not."

"Yeah, that's not surprising. Not many people do know. The bastard somehow managed to escape from our maximum security prison. Which is where you come in. Did you have personal contact with Nero while he was in your custody?" The Admiral's voice was almost conversational but Spock knew that his question was a delay tactic.

"As you are aware, sir, I did in fact have contact with the Emperor." Spock remained at attention, a stark contrast to Pike's more relaxed state. "And as you are also aware, I was in the company of several members of the crew throughout the majority of Nero's stay on the ship, most notably Lieutenant Kirk. You are familiar with the Lieutenant. He will no doubt corroborate my statements." Most humans would have phrased the last statement as a question, but Spock did not see the need to ask the admiral a question when he already knew the answer.

Pike nodded, his hand running across his jaw, eyes watching him. "Yes, I'm sure he will. But you said 'the majority of Nero's stay.' And it is for what occurred outside the presence of others why you were denounced by your first officer, Commander Sulu."

Spock was unable to suppress his surprise. He was aware of the Commander's dislike of him, but he didn't believe he would make false accusations such as these. "It was Commander Sulu, who, while he was in charge of the Enterprise, ordered me to watch over the prisoner instead of performing my regular duties on the bridge."

The admiral nodded once again before he stood and walked around his desk, sitting on the corner. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied his fingernails, looking up at Spock. "The sound files had corrupted but the security feed from the brig showed you and Nero discussing something on a PADD. It looked as though you were relaying information to him."

So that was the reason he was arrested? Because the security feed caught something mildly suspicious? Spock believed that under normal circumstances more evidence, even if it was faulty, was required before an arrest would even be made but perhaps prejudice against his species was the main culprit here. "You are more than welcome to view the very PADD which contains the subject we were discussing, sir."

Pike perked up. "Oh, well, this is good. Where can we find it?"

Spock relayed the information on the location of the PADD to the Admiral. He had left it in plain view on his desk in his office at the Academy as he did not believe it was worth extending his efforts to the contents. Pike sent one of his security officers to fetch it while Spock remained in his office. Emperor Nero had merely requested that Spock attempt to locate members of what he referred to as his 'ancestors' and inform them to kill any child born on the date of his birth in the future. As Spock found his claims to be from the future to be in question and without further proof, his efforts would be a waste of time, Spock merely told him that he would consider his request. As of now, Spock had yet to make a formal decision as to whether or not to honor the request.

A few moments later, the security officer returned and handed the PADD over to the Admiral. Spock remained stoic as Pike read through the contents. Another few moments and he set the PADD down on his desk and looked to Spock, regretfully. "I must apologize, Captain," he spoke. "It appears Commander Sulu was mistaken, as was I."

"No apologies necessary, Admiral," he responded. He was just pleased that the situation had been settled.

"No," Pike said, sighing heavily. "I just feel bad about this whole thing. I must have caused you significant stress over this." He laughed slightly and walked back behind his desk. His gaze moved to focus behind Spock but he did not allow his gaze to follow the Admiral's. "There's just one more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"How would you describe your relationship with Cadet Uhura?"

Spock froze, thrown by the sudden change in topic. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves before he was unable to suppress them. This line of conversation could not possibly lead to good as far as Uhura and he were concerned. He tried his hand at a delay tactic. "Cadet Uhura has been my teaching assistant for the past two years, sir. We work well together and as she is unmatched in xenolinguistics, her assistance has been quite valuable."

"Right, that's all well and good," Pike offhandedly replied. "Perhaps I should be more specific. Are you or are you not in a sexual relationship with the cadet?" His gaze had become harsher, as he glared at the Vulcan.

Spock's breath caught in his throat. This was the one thing Uhura and he feared – being caught. He believed that they had been covering their tracks as best they could but he must have missed something, some hint that showed him they were in danger. Spock didn't want to answer in the affirmative but he couldn't outright lie to the admiral either, so he answered the only way he could think of at the moment. "I have no comment on the matter."

Pike laughed, clapping his hands on his upper thigh. His actions puzzled Spock. "You might as well have just confirmed it, Spock. Would have been better for you to lie."

Spock leveled his gaze evenly with Pike's, watching him step away from his desk and walk towards him. Behind him, Spock heard the door to Pike's office hiss open and footsteps enter. Pike halted before him, all mirth and kindness gone from his eyes. "The whole treason thing was a cover," he shrugged. "I knew perfectly well that you didn't do that. The sound files from the security feed worked just fine. I just needed a good reason to get you in here so quickly."

As Pike paused momentarily, Spock anxiously but stoically waited for him to continue; hoping for a moment to explain the situation, but none came. Pike and whoever came to him had already built the case against him. "Sir?" Spock asked, his voice not belying his inner turmoil and fear. He couldn't bring himself to think of what would happen to Uhura if he couldn't divert the admiral's attention from the matter at hand.

"I have physical evidence that you used that damn Vulcan mind crap you're so good at on the cadet, thereby allowing her to be susceptible to you as you forced yourself on her God only knows how many times."

"Evidence? What kind of evidence?" Perhaps he should have spent his time rebutting the Admiral's belief that he had forced himself on Uhura in any form rather than questioning the presence of evidence, but he was a scientist first and foremost.

"Brain scans," Pike replied shortly. "Brain scans that show repeated episodes of mind melds. You did a real number on her."

Spock shook his head, growing desperate. Mind melds left no long term effect on a person's brain other than the transference of emotions and memories and they most certainly did not cause harm in the manner the admiral was suggesting unless they were done with the intention to harm. Spock's melds with Uhura were solely for enhancing their pleasure and intimacy. They learned much about each other through the melds and as such were very in tune with one another. If there truly was something present on Uhura's scans, Spock knew it was not his doing. "Sir, if you allow me to view the scans, perhaps I can ascertain the true meaning of the findings and –"

"You will do no such thing," Pike interrupted him. He turned his gaze to the group of men behind him and nodded. "Take him away."

Spock turned to the men, prepared to fight back if need be. It was perhaps a very human emotion, but he was not going to allow himself to be arrested for a crime he did not commit, not seeing logic in doing so. His superior strength would allow him to singlehandedly defeat these men and escape. But they had been expecting him to fight back and one of the men aimed his phasers in Spock's direction and opened fire.

There was one last fleeting thought on Spock's mind as he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Who told Admiral Pike of their relationship?


	7. A Complicated Betrayal

The first thing Spock noticed when he slowly awoke was the bright lights and white walls of a shuttlecraft. The second thing he noticed was that it was moving quickly, though not at warp, which meant he was still within the earth's atmosphere or at the very least, in orbit. He checked his internal clock and realized that it had only been an hour since he was stunned unconscious in Admiral's Pike office. The memories of the events that had just occurred replayed in his mind and he tried to figure out what happened. Who betrayed Uhura and him? And for what purpose? He knew he was innocent. He didn't betray Starfleet; he couldn't, not after everything they had given him. Perhaps he had more than his share of enemies, those who wanted to see him burn solely because he was Vulcan or those they felt that he had been given opportunities within the Fleet that they should have been afforded. But who wanted to see Uhura punished?

Yes, they had broken the law with their relationship, but Spock had never once forced himself on her. They had a mutual respect and love for one another. They understood each other. They accepted each other for who they were and accepted their faults. They had planned to bond. Now it was all gone in one fell swoop. Who wanted to hurt her? They would pay for it.

Spock couldn't lie on the cot on which he had been placed, passively waiting for whatever was coming his way; and hers as well. He had to protect her; it was an overwhelming urge, something primal. An intense compulsion to protect what was his, even if they had not yet bonded, she was his. She had promised him this. Just as he had promised her. His logic, which was perhaps colored with his human inclination to run, told him to fight his way out; there was no logic in accepting your fate when you knew it was constructed from false accusations and even faultier evidence.

Spock quietly looked around the small shuttle, trying to ascertain the exact situation. In the pilot seats, just feet away, he saw two human men armed with phasers. Behind them, on the passenger bench, was evidence of another man yet Spock could not see him, only his phaser and other belongings. Perhaps he was in the lavatory. Spock glanced down at his condition and noticed that he had not been strapped in; clearly the security detail had been overconfident in the effect of the stun setting on their phasers. It would keep a human unconscious for several hours, but Spock's Vulcan biology lessened that time considerably. Wanting to stealthily attack, Spock decided that now would be the best time to do so, even with one of the men absent. He could render the pilots unconscious quickly and quietly, and then use the phaser on the other man when he reentered the cabin.

Quietly, Spock rose from the cot and snuck towards the pilot and co-pilot. As he passed the bench, he silently picked up the phaser and pocketed it, wanting to prevent the other officer from using it on him if he returned before Spock dispatched the other two men. He paced forward mutely and once he was within range, reached out with both hands, wanting to simultaneously and quickly find the bundle of nerves on the curve of their necks. He pressed down hard and watched the men slumped forward, effectively rendered unconscious.

He leaned over the console to try and determine their course but a sound came from behind. He turned quickly and received a punch in the face. The missing man had returned. But his punch had not done much harm to the Vulcan, as it was weak. Spock glared at him and walked toward him. He had to give it to the human; he was not willing to go down without a fight. Block after block, Spock effectively shut down the man's blows, marching him backward, toward the back wall of the shuttle. The man was startled when his back hit the wall and he lost his concentration, his gaze shifting to the side. Spock seized the opportunity and reached out, shutting him down just as he had done the pilots, with the nerve pinch. He watched the man slump to the floor before rushing to the pilot controls.

Spock pushed the main pilot to the side, rolling him to the ground and took his seat. He would need help if he was going to prove his innocence and clear his and Uhura's name. He needed to go to Kirk. He would help him.

* * *

The prisoner transport shuttle softly touched down in a clearing in the middle of the small forest, just outside the edge of town. Spock would have to go the rest of the way by foot, not wanting to risk the chance of being followed by the officers if they woke. Leaving everything behind, he quickly ran out of the shuttle and through the trees. Kirk had a home in the small town that he procured a little over a year ago. He used it more often than his officer's quarters on base because he preferred the privacy. Spock had his suspicions as to why that was and they centered on Kirk's womanizing behavior. But at the moment, he felt it might be a good thing.

Spock speedily dodged in and out of the trees before finding himself at the edge of the forest, looking back to make sure he had not been followed. Satisfied that he was still alone, he ran to the town in the direction of Kirk's home. A few moments later, he reached his destination and pounded on the door, desperate to be let in. When he wasn't let inside as fast as he would have liked, Spock reached for the door controls and tore the cover off, looking to override the commands. As it was a simple code and simple wiring, for him anyway, Spock quickly cracked it and opened the door. He ran inside, calling out to his friend.

"Jim!" He scanned the interior of the home, trying to ascertain Kirk's whereabouts. No lights were on, an indication that he was probably in bed, hopefully not with company. Spock ran into the living area. "Jim!"

Spock was soon greeted with the sight of Kirk storming down the stairs, pulling a shirt over his head, a confused expression on his face. "Spock? What's wrong?"

Despite the fear, anxiety, and adrenaline coursing through his body, Spock's voice was calm; a tribute to the years of training his father had given him in Surak's teachings. "I was arrested for treason, but then quickly found myself being charged of _kae'at_ _k'lasa_ as well."

Kirk furrowed his brow, clearly confused by Spock's words. "What's… _kae'at_ …whatever you just said?"

Spock locked eyes with him, his voice void of all trace of emotion, more so than usual. "Mind-rape. They are accusing me of forcing my mind and thoughts onto Cadet Uhura to compel her to perform sexual activities." He broke off, shaking his head slightly, brow creased. "I am unsure of how they discovered the relationship between Cadet Uhura and me, but I did not commit the crime they are accusing me of, Jim. I could not."

Kirk nodded before he spoke. "I know, Spock," his voice meant to be reassuring but his eyes were unfocused as though he was deep in thought.

Spock stepped closer to his friend. "I was hoping I could ask for your assistance in clearing this matter. As it was Admiral Pike who made the arrest, I was thinking, perhaps ill-conceivably, that you could talk to the Admiral and explain the situation to him."

"Right," Kirk answered. "Yeah, let's go."

Spock eagerly followed Kirk, who led the way to office area of the house. Perhaps his logic was impaired at the moment, but Spock truly believed that Kirk knew exactly what to do in his current situation. Spock would normally never concede such control over a situation such as this over to someone else but he felt that he was becoming emotionally compromised.

"How far behind is security?" Kirk asked, rounding the corner and into office. He quickly moved to the back of the room, towards the back wall.

"I left them unconscious in the transport shuttle in the middle of the forest. If they are conscious now I believe they will be disoriented as to where they are. But I believe it will be only a matter of minutes before Starfleet becomes aware that something has happened."

"Good, that's good," Kirk's voice was distracted. He opened his weapons' cabinet, tucked between the bookshelves. "What do you need?" he asked, scanning over his vast collection. "Do you need a phaser?"

"I had hoped to solve this dispute as peacefully as possible. Weapons will not be necessary," Spock replied.

"Right, right," Kirk responded, once again sounding as though he was not fully invested in the matter at hand. "That's probably a better idea."

Spock was stunned into momentary silence when Kirk quickly grabbed a phaser from his weapons cabinet and turned on him, pointing the weapon at him. Spock stared him, his brow furrowed, trying to understand what he was doing and why. Did he think he was lying? That this was a joke? "Jim," Spock finally found his voice. "What are you doing? We do not have time for this." Spock stepped forward, holding his hand out in an effort to pull the phaser from Kirk's hand.

But Kirk quickly stepped out of his reach and fired the phaser to the side, the red laser beam rushing past Spock's head and landing on the wall behind him, leaving a scorching burn mark. Spock froze, stunned by the turn of events. It never occurred to him to calculate the odds of being betrayed by his own best friend. But here it was, happening at this very moment. James T. Kirk, the man he had known since they were children, was aiming a phaser at him, set to kill. The realization startled him. While he was at a loss for words, Kirk wasn't.

"I saw you and Nero. I heard you tell him that you were considering doing something for him," Kirk said, his voice shaky.

Spock was still horrified, still trying to compute the situation, yet he calmly replied to Kirk with only his words tinged with pleas. "It…was you?"

Kirk gave a wry chuckle, the sound almost colored with regret – almost. "Well, it wasn'tI just /Ime. It was Sulu's idea." A beat. "And McCoy's."

"Why did you not come to me with your concerns, Jim?" Spock was desperate to understand.

"Why do you keep secrets from me?" Kirk's voice rose, his hand shaking the phaser. "I thought we were friends."

"I, too, believed that we were." Spock shook his head. "The conversation with the Emperor was not pertinent. He had merely asked me to look for someone. I chose to ignore his request. The conversation meant nothing." Spock's voice had grown more shattered and weary as the situation continued.

"I know," Kirk confessed. Spock caught his eye when he noticed that Kirk's voice was touched with a hint of remorse. "I saw the security feed."

Confusion presented itself on Spock's face. His brow crinkled as he tried to gain an understanding of the motives behind Kirk's actions. "If you know the truth, then why are you doing this?"

Kirk inhaled deeply, shrugging. "Oh," he released the breath. "It's….complicated."

Spock stared at Kirk. "Complicated?" he reiterated, something he was not usually prone to do but at the moment, it was all he could think to say. He watched Kirk reach for the communication device on his desk but his brain was working desperately to piece together the situation, what facts he knew, trying to draw conclusions. What had he missed? He was aware of Sulu's anger of having been passed over for the promotion. But what of McCoy? What did he want? Spock had one piece of the puzzle; he now knew who told Pike of the conversation in the brig. But what about the other accusation, involving Uhura - the mind-rape? He recalled that Uhura had a headache earlier in the day, something she attributed to the brain scan she had received earlier in the day. The results of those scans must be the 'evidence' Pike had, but only two people knew of the relationship as far as Spock knew: Barnett and Kirk. Barnett had nothing to gain by turning him in and neither did-

Wait.

Spock jerked his eyes to connect to Kirk's, comprehension suddenly dawning on him. "You were also the one who told of my relationship with Cadet Uhura. You had Doctor McCoy manipulate her brain scans." To his horror, his voice sounded distant and shocked even to his own ears. He was losing control of his emotions.

There was perhaps a hint of sorrow, maybe even guilt, in Kirk's eyes when he responded. "Yeah."

"I am still puzzled. What did Dr. McCoy stand to gain in this?"

Kirk shrugged, shaking his head. "Nothing. He just hates you."

Spock nodded, having anticipated that answer. He knew he was not a personal favorite of the doctor's. McCoy's prejudices were quite well-known. He just could not believe that human dislike would spawn actions such as this, especially when he had nothing to gain. But it appeared that he is not as familiar with human thinking as he had previously believed. He could not understand Kirk's reasoning behind framing him; he hadn't seen a single indication that something was…

He paused in his thoughts. Spock recalled earlier, after his promotion, when we went to The Rock to meet with Kirk and Uhura. Something had changed there. But why was he punishing Uhura?

"This will jeopardize Cadet Uhura's career, her reputation. Everything she has worked so hard to gain will be lost. Why would you do that to her?" Spock spoke softly, the fight draining out of him. He wanted to understand. He needed to.

Kirk quickly refuted that point. "Don't worry," he said, "She'll be taken good care of." He gave Spock a salacious smile. "I'm not going to let _anything_ happen to her."

Realization dawned on Spock. Kirk was in love with her – or at least his equivalent of love. "And how long until you grow tired of her? How long until you discard her as you do to all the other women who cross your path, Jim?" Spock stepped forward, hoping to distract him long enough to disarm him. "You will never be able to give her what she deserves. It is not in your nature."

Kirk raged. He swept the contents on his desk to the floor before holding the phaser more securely and more directly at Spock. "What she deserves? At least with me she wouldn't have to hide, wouldn't have to keep everything secret. She could actually know how I feel and maybe even hear the words, 'I love you' every once in a while."

Spock had to admit, Kirk's words stung. No, she didn't deserve to hide in the shadows and he wanted desperately to fix that for her. He had hoped that with the capture of Nero, the Empire would finally move in the right direction, only now, everything was falling apart. But Kirk was wrong about one thing, she knew how he felt about her, she had felt it many times. It was true, he could never say the words 'I love you' out loud, but being able to feel it…that had to count for more than just words. Words could lie, but feelings could not.

As Kirk lifted the communicator that he still held in his hand and began to speak, giving Starfleet his coordinates, he dropped the phaser from his target. Spock saw this as his opportunity and launched, attempting to pull the phaser away from him. But Kirk had been expecting him to because he jerked the phaser back up, straight at Spock's chest, before he could even get to him. Spock halted.

He looked at his friend – or formal friend as the case may be – with confusion and perhaps a little desperation, his control finally slipping away. "Why, Jim, why? After everything we have experienced together, why?"

"Because you're a Vulcan!" Kirk exclaimed. "And I'm not supposed to want to be you."

Spock stared, his gaze intense. Out of all that people that he knew, Spock had never believed that Kirk would become prejudiced against him or his species. They had grown up together. They had done everything together. Not once did Spock see a hint of prejudice, or at least none that he recognized. He slowly began to realize that Kirk was still speaking.

"You're supposed to be at the bottom of the chain of command, not swiftly climbing your way to the top. Everything I do come in second to you and you don't even have to try!" Kirk paced the room, making sure his phaser remained on Spock. "Have you ever wondered what Pike said to me to make me join the Fleet? When you or Barnett couldn't?"

"I must admit that I had been curious."

Kirk walked towards him, stopping in front, his gaze dead even with the Vulcan's. He leaned in slightly when he spoke, for emphasis. "Power. He told me I could have my own ship in four years. But here we are, five years later and I'm still living under your shadow."

"You could have transferred," Spock replied, trying to be the voice of reason.

Kirk scoffed. "Off the flagship? No way." He sighed heavily. "No, it's better this way. Maybe I can escape your shadow with Uhura as well."

The sounds of an incoming transportation filtered into the room. Starfleet security had arrived. Kirk called out, indicating where they were and the sounds of footsteps grew closer. Spock looked around the room, trying to ascertain if an escape was possible. Kirk noticed and spoke. "It would be better for Uhura if you just go with them. Unless you want her tossed in prison with you."

Kirk's thinly veiled threat halted Spock. After the events of the past several hours, he could not bring himself to doubt the truth in his words. And he couldn't put Uhura at risk. He would bear any punishment, whatever it may be, no matter how unjustified, to protect her. His eyes on Kirk, he remained still as security entered the room and moved to him. They cuffed him, trained their more powerful phaser rifles on him and he remained focused on Kirk, feeling his world crumble around him. He allowed the officers to pull him back to the middle of the room.

"Wait." Kirk suddenly stepped forward. He bent down and picked up the familiar King chess piece they had shared over the years. It had been tossed from the desk when Kirk raged earlier. He placed it inside Spock's uniform jacket. "To remember better times."

Spock stoically looked ahead, not wanting to give Kirk the satisfaction of seeing his control rattled. One of the security officers spoke into his communications device, requesting immediate transport. A few seconds after the affirmation, Spock felt the familiar tingle of the transportation process and flicked his eyes over to Kirk. The last thing he saw before his molecules separated was Kirk watching him, with something akin to regret on his face.

* * *

Admiral Christopher Pike entered his quarters, pleased with the night's turn of events. Perhaps the young Vulcan Spock was not a traitor but he was involved with a cadet, a _human_ cadet. That was illegal no matter how you looked at it, whether he forced himself on her or not.

Noticing the blinking light on his console, Pike went to it, sitting down. He turned on the console to read the encoded messages that had been sent his way. He clicked on the most recent. He had assigned several officers to keep track of Nero's whereabouts since his…'escape' from prison and they had recently reported in. Details of his escape given to the higher ups in the fleet were sketchy at best, but Pike knew the reality and the how.

Soon, he would make his move. Soon, Nero would be his and the prestige that would come with capturing the most dangerous man in the galaxy would be his.

The power was so close, Pike could almost taste it.

And the thing that pleased Pike the most? It was almost a gift practically thrown into his lap when he needed it most; something that could pull the attention off of him. Granted the man was innocent but it was so perfect.

He had found his scapegoat.


	8. The Case of Captain Spock

Spock blinked, readjusting from the transportation. He had arrived at the penal colony he was to serve his sentence, the asteroid known as _Rura_ _Penthe_ , formerly of the Klingon Empire. Before the Empire invaded and took over, the asteroid, rich in the precious metal dilithium, had been used by the Klingons as a penal mining colony, so that they could use the labor force to exploit the resources. It had been the most feared punishment for Klingons and their enemies alike. It was brutal and there was no escape. Many prisoners did not survive for more than a year.

It had earned the notorious nickname 'the aliens' graveyard.' And the name still stood. When the Empire invaded, all that changed was who was in charge. It was still used for mining. And only the sturdiest prisoners survived for longer than a year.

Spock glanced around his surroundings, taking in the dark stone walls. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of whips cracking and the screams of the prisoners who had been forced to work in the mines. He remained stoic, despite his inner anxiety.

He was led to an office, a small stone building at the entrance to the mines. It was an odd juxtaposition to be sure, the bright lights of the building, the cleanliness, next to the harsh stone, dark dirty air of the mines. The building was only one room and featured a desk and computer system. Behind the desk sat a woman with dark brown shoulder-length hair and bright blue eyes. She appeared to be tough, battle-worn, with years of experience in Starfleet, though Spock was curious as to how she ended up here. Her expression was neutral as she watched her new prisoner enter, preventing Spock from determining how to approach her.

She glanced at her computer to read the information on Spock and his crimes. Spock stood with his hands cuffed before him waiting for her to speak. A moment later she looked at him, a cynical grin forming on her face. Spock inwardly cringed at the madness in her eyes and avoided her gaze. "Welcome to _Rura_ _Penthe_ , Captain Spock," she said, standing and walking around her desk. "I'll be your hostess for the duration of your stay here. They call me Number One." She held her hand out as though she was expecting him to warmly greet her.

Spock stared at the proffered hand coldly before bringing his eyes back up, finding a spot on the wall to rest his gaze. She laughed and lowered her hand. "Aren't you going to plea your innocence? Like every other person who walks through my doors?"

Spock shook his head. "There is no reason to. My case will be investigated and I will be proven innocent of all charges." He truly believed it would. His father would surely mount an investigation of his own. And Barnett would more than likely use his influence in the Fleet to redact his charges. Everything would be fine soon. It had to be. He had to believe that.

The woman known as Number One smiled wryly, shaking her head as though she felt sorry for him. "Don't you know, Captain?"

Spock met her gaze for the first time since arriving, puzzled. "Do I know what?"

"You're here because you are innocent. This is where they send the ones they're ashamed of."

Spock brought his eyes to hers with a tilt of his head. "That is illogical. It would a waste of man power to imprison falsely accused inmates."

Number One sighed softly before smiling. "Whatever gets you through the day," she said, clapping her hands together. "Now, let's go check out your…quarters, shall we?"

Spock begrudgingly followed Number One and her two guards up a flight of stairs, through meandering corridors until finally they reached their destination. Number One opened the cell and stepped aside, waiting for Spock to enter. After a shove from a guard, he slowly entered the room and glanced around. The room was small, perhaps five feet by seven with seven foot tall ceilings. The walls were made of the rock the cell was carved into. His eyes fell on an inscription that had been etched into the left wall.

" _Do no harm to those that harm you.  
_ _Offer them peace, then you will have peace."_

Spock stared at the words, recognizing the phrase. It was a Vulcan saying from the teachings of Surak, the father of logic. Another Vulcan must have previously inhabited this cell at some point and carved the phrase in an attempt to instill it, to reassure him that as long as he performed admirably and not harm those who harm him, he would one day have peace himself. Perhaps it was foolhardy, but Spock could see the merit in it.

Number One followed his gaze and scoffed. "Typical Vulcans," she said, clearly recognizing the phrase for what it was. "Always trying to cling to their logic." Spock remained silent while she continued. "Because it's your first day and I'm nothing if not a wonderful hostess, I have a present for you. Every year on their anniversary, to help our prisoners keep track of the passage of time, I like to give them something special. So that they can remember," she told him.

The guards moved Spock further inside the room, forcing him to face the wall. They removed his cuffs and he felt his hands part and pulled to either side of him. Cold hard steel of shackles snapped against his wrists. "I assure you this is not necessary. Vulcans possess excellent internal chronometers. I need no such reminders."

She snorted, moving behind him to bring her lips to his ear. "I've broken many a Vulcan before. Hell, even some Klingons. Trust me, you'll need the reminder."

The guards pulled on the chains, jerking his arms above his head and lifting his body off the ground. He felt his uniform being pulled taut against his chest as a knife slipped in the back and sliced the fabric, baring his back. The two guards took turns using the knife on the sleeves of the tattered uniform to remove it completely from his torso. Left exposed, Spock took deep breaths, steeling himself for what was to come. He heard rustling behind him and tensed his body.

"I'll admit this is a little barbaric and definitely archaic," Number One confessed, a slight laugh at the end of her sentence. "But I feel that if it doesn't leave a mark, then it's not much of a present, is it? Anniversaries are supposed to be things people remember. If I just used the collars, then how is this day any more special than the last?"

Even though he had anticipated pain, Spock was still stunned when he felt the crack of a whip against his back. Silently, he kept his face composed and clenched his fists in reaction to the sudden pain. He inwardly prepared himself for the pain and she popped the whip again, digging deep into his skin, emerald green blood oozing from the wounds. Not for the first time, Spock wondered why he had been led down this path, why Kirk did this to him and why the facts worked against him.

"If you're wondering when your precious Logic is going to save you, I'm going to go ahead and say, it's not," she said, cracking the whip once more against his back. "Logic means nothing here."

"Logic is everything," he replied, horrified at the slight pain in his voice. "Logic will raise us out of chaos and bring us a serenity we have not yet experienced."

"Okay, then." She stepped close to him once more, leaning in. "I'll offer you a deal. The moment your logic lifts you out of this chaos and brings you peace, I'll stop."

She cracked the whip again. And again….and again….

Spock remained silent.

* * *

Lieutenant Kirk sat uncomfortably in Admiral Pike's office, waiting for him to arrive. At his side sat Admiral Barnett, Spock's father and Cadet Uhura. Kirk knew the awkward feeling he was experiencing was due to not wanting to be discovered as the one who turned Spock in, but he was sure that Pike would keep that silent. At least that was his hope. They were all here to attempt to figure out information on Spock and his whereabouts, his crimes, anything they could to explain his situation.

The doors opened and everyone got to their feet, watching Admiral Pike rush in and head immediately to his desk. Barnett stepped forward, taking control over the situation.

"Admiral Pike," Barnett spoke with superiority in his voice. "We are here to discuss the case of Captain Spock."

Kirk watched Pike freeze, surprised to see people in his office. They had not waited for his assistant to allow them in and having instead entered uninvited. "Spock?" he asked, his voice puzzled. His eyes scanned his audience before landing on Kirk. He tilted his head on confusion, wanting to know what was going on.

"Admiral Barnett, if I may, sir?" Kirk asked, stepping forward. He wanted to be the one controlling the situation. Barnett nodded his affirmation and Kirk seized the opportunity. "Thank you, sir."

Kirk turned his attention to Pike, who continued to stare at Kirk with confusion, clearly thrown. "Admiral Pike, sir," he greeted, trying to set the mood. "I have known Captain Spock since we were kids. We practically grew up together. If there's anyone who knows him better than me it would be his father, but I need to say this, there is absolutely no way he's guilty of any crime. He's too much of a stickler to the rules. He'd probably break out in hives if he was even late a fraction of a second."

Kirk stared intensely at the Admiral, silently trying to plea with him to play along. But Pike still seemed to be baffled as he looked around the office. He had been expecting to be alone in his office. Kirk saw that the admiral needed a moment to readjust his thoughts and continued speaking, introducing the others with him. "This is his mentor, Admiral Barnett, his father, Sarek, and his teaching assistant, Cadet Uhura."

Finally, Kirk saw realization in Pike's eyes. He inwardly sighed with relief. Pike regarded the group before him, his eyes scanning across them, this time without confusion. He sat behind his desk, and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "For someone who had such a pristine record previously, Captain Spock has built up quite the rap sheet in the last few days. I guess you never really know a person, huh?"

"What are the charges?" Barnett asked.

"Well," Pike dragged out. He held out his hand, counting with his fingers. "First, there's the treason." He quickly glanced to Kirk and quickly asked, "Do you still stand by him?"

Kirk nodded. "Of course, sir."

Pike held out two fingers. "Then there's the murder charge."

"Murder?" Kirk asked, legitimately confused. He knew of the false treason charge, but murder? Kirk knew that no matter how bad things got, Spock would never commit such a crime unless it was in self-defense. It went against everything he had been taught. He had other ways of dispatching unwanted followers that did not involve killing.

Sarek, in protest, stepped forward and spoke, his voice deep and sure. "My son would never commit such atrocity."

Pike's eyes slid over to Sarek. "He was seen conversing with Nero, exchanging information, while he was in the brig on the Enterprise. When he was arrested, he killed one of the officers sent to apprehend him."

Kirk jerked aside, surprised by a hand on his upper arm. Uhura had moved forward and stepped between Kirk and Barnett, situating herself in front of Pike, a pleading expression on her face. "Please, sir," she said. "If you knew Captain Spock at all, you would know he's not a killer."

Sarek backed her up, reiterating his previous statement. "Yes, it is against everything I have taught him. It is not the Vulcan way."

"Maybe he's just rebelling," he shrugged in response to Sarek. Kirk saw Pike's eyes flit between everyone in the room, before settling on Uhura, studying her. "But the most troubling charge is the one involving you, Cadet Uhura."

Uhura was visibly bewildered. "Me? What charge? What are you talking about?" she asked, momentarily forgetting ranks in her shock.

Pike stood from his desk and walked to Uhura. He looked down at her, compassion in his eyes. Uhura tilted her head to study his face, searching for an explanation. Kirk kept silent, watching the scene before him. "Everything will be alright, Cadet. Captain Spock can no longer hurt you," Pike spoke, sympathy coloring his tone.

Kirk could see that Uhura was still confused, still livid. He saw the fire burn in her eyes and knew she was growing angry, furious at the accusation being directed towards Spock. "Hurt me?" she exclaimed. "What are you talking about? He's never hurt me!"

Pike shook his head as though he was saddened by the events. "As I suspected. He used his Vulcan telepathy to wipe your memory. To take away your memory of his assaults. It is highly likely that he did so numerous times."

Uhura backed away, shaking her head profusely. Kirk watched her out of the corner of his eye, worried that she was going to pass out from shock. He knew that she would be distressed over the charges, no matter how false, but he had to admit that he wasn't prepared for this reaction.

"And do you have proof of this?" Barnett asked authority entering his voice.

"I must ask the same, Admiral," Sarek spoke up.

Pike looked between the two men, one an admiral such as himself and the other the father of the man in question. "That information is classified," he answered easily.

"Where is he?" Uhura demanded, pushing her way through the men and in front of Pike, a dangerous expression on her face. Kirk knew that look, having seen it many times in the years he knew her, usually after pissing her off.

"I'm sorry, _Cadet_ ," Pike emphasized her rank. Kirk saw Uhura visibly flinch, remembering her place in the chain of command. Once she had backed off and muttered an apology, Pike continued. "I can't tell you where he is. Suffice it to say, he will no longer be able to have contact with you, Miss Uhura." Kirk saw her shake her head again in protest, once again growing agitated. "You will be required to undergo a psychiatric examination however," Pike added. "But do not worry, Cadet, this will not damage your career in anyway. You are not in the wrong here."

"No! Admiral, sir, please," Uhura tried again, her gaze imploring, her voice desperate. "He didn't do anything to me that I didn't want. Spock and I-"

Kirk rushed forward, frantically wanting her to stop talking before she blurted out the truth. "Cadet," he called out, tugging on her arm.

She attempted to pull her arm free from his grasp. "No!" Kirk tugged her unwillingly back away from the other men. "James, please," she begged, tugging on her arm.

"Cadet Uhura, calm down," Kirk ordered, grasping her shoulders in his hands and attempting to pull her away once more. Admiral Barnett must have sensed the desperation of the scene because he stepped in and helped Kirk maneuver Uhura towards the door where they could speak in private.

Separated from the others, she looked into Kirk's eyes, her gaze frantic. "I'm not going to let him go to prison for this, James. Why aren't you saying anything?" she accused with a harsh whisper, her eyes narrowing.

"I will talk to the Admiral," Kirk reassured her. He looked into her eyes, his voice serious. "Just, please, don't incriminate yourself. You know Spock wouldn't want that."

It was a low blow to be sure, but it had the desired effect. She calmed down considerably, breathing deeply. She reached up and grasped Kirk's uniform. "Please, James," she said. "Please don't let them do this to him."

Kirk nodded. "I will do everything I can," he told her calmly. There was a small part of him that felt horrible at the deception but he didn't want it to end, not when everything he wanted was almost within his reach.

Barnett wrapped his arms around the shaken and forlorn Cadet. "Come with me, Cadet. Let's leave the Lieutenant do what he can for the Captain. You can help me look up this…classified information."

Uhura nodded, murmuring her consent, and allowed Admiral Barnett lead her out of Pike's office. Kirk watched them leave before turning his gaze back to Pike and Sarek. Spock's father had stepped towards the Admiral, his pose intimidating.

"My son is not responsible for the crimes you accuse him of and I will do everything in my power to prove it," Sarek avowed; his expression was stoic yet his voice carried a threatening tone.

Pike was not intimidated. "Well, you are more than welcome to do so, sir, but I must warn you, you won't be pleased with what you find."

"I will be the judge of that, Admiral." Sarek, always one for tradition, bowed his head before turning on his heel and exiting the office.

Kirk watched the Vulcan leave and the door close before he turned his attention back to the Admiral. Pike was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his check and a smirk on his face. Kirk walked forward slowly.

"Not that I don't appreciate the exaggeration of the crimes, but still…murder?" Kirk questioned, unable to keep his disgust of the crime out of his voice. "No one's gonna believe that one."

Pike pushed off the desk and walked back behind it. "Vulcans are just like any other animal," he shrugged, sitting down in the chair. "Corner them and they lash out."

Kirk nodded, contemplating Pike's words. "I guess that's true," he agreed. "They are pretty territorial…and I did impose on his territory." Kirk laughed, referring to Uhura. He knew that Spock would do anything for her, anything to protect her, even if it meant that he would die. It was what made this so easy. He threatened Uhura and Spock folded.

Pike smiled. "Speaking of territory," he started. "I have to admit, I didn't get it at first - why you were betraying him – when you first reported his conversation with Nero and his relationship with that cadet, but now, having seen her…" Pike inhaled deeply. "…I can't say I blame you one bit. Damn, she's gorgeous," he shook his head. "Wish I could get my hands on her."

"If you don't mind my asking, sir, why are you being so…" Kirk's voice faded as he tried to find the word. Finally, he settled on, "…helpful?"

Pike gestured to the chair in front of his desk, a dark glimmer in his eye. "Maybe you should sit down, Kirk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for the ending of the chapter: I realize that, in reality, Admiral Barnett wouldn't just let Kirk take over the conversation, being an Admiral and all compared to Kirk's mere lieutenant rank, but...just go with it ;)


	9. Offer Them Peace, Then You Shall Have Peace

Spock spent most of his time alone, in solitary confinement, locked away in a damp, cold prison cell. On the days he wasn't left alone, he was forced to work in the mines, searching for dilithium. The mines were dangerous and dark with little light to illuminate the prisoners' work. He wasn't sure which he preferred, the mines or the cell. In the cell, he would be alone for days with no contact with another living creature, but he found himself meditating in an effort to alleviate the feeling of desperation.

The isolation was haunting for a telepath. Despite their cold and aloof exterior, Vulcans were a highly social race, forming deep bonds with the people in their lives. They were like humans in that way, needing socialization to maintain their emotional state. The loneliness and silence was deafening.

Today was a mining day. A small part of him was pleased with this and a much larger part of him was horrified at the thought that something such as this pleased him, this grisly, barbaric way of life, but he had been left alone for so long. Or maybe it wasn't that long. If he thought hard enough, he would have realized that it had only been two months since his imprisonment. But being alone messed with his sense of time. He raised his axe and slammed it down on the rock, the impact rippling up through his arms.

A scream in the distant. Blood-curdling. He shuddered internally. The pain collar dug into his neck.

Why was he here again? His mind must be slipping. He needed to meditate more often; he was beginning to lose control. His mind conjured up an image of a blond haired human male with blue eyes. His name flitted through his mind. It was on the tip of his tongue. What was it….? Oh, yes….

"Kirk," he whispered harshly to himself, slamming the axe once more. Rock crumbled at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, placing it in the cart at his side.

His life was so simple now, painful but simple. Mine the ore, place it in the cart. Rinse and repeat. Or sit alone in the damp cell, meditating, if he could. He missed his scientific endeavors. He craved intellectual conversation. He needed it.

He needed Nyota.

What had he done to deserve this?

Another scream. Closer this time. His turn was coming. He raised the axe once more.

Peace. _Give them peace, then you shall have peace_. It had seemed so simple not too long ago and so true, but when was this peace coming? He tried so hard to follow Surak's teachings. He did no harm. He was a model prisoner. It wasn't working. Perhaps it needed more time. He would continue doing as he was; surviving.

Kirk betrayed him. His best friend. And for what? Spock still could not comprehend the facts, that his childhood friend did this to him. Because he was jealous? Spock recalled Kirk mentioning Nyota, his captaincy, how everything came so easily to him. But that wasn't true. He had worked so hard to get to where he was. He had to work more than anyone else in Starfleet to get to the point he had, the prejudices he faced were the biggest obstacle he came across. And Nyota.

He missed her. Was she okay?

This time the scream was at his side. He refused to look. He was next.

He lifted the axe more quickly this time. He slammed it down, breaking dilithium ore off the rock. Starfleet needed this to power their ships. Their powerful ships. The _Enterprise_. So, one could argue that he was doing his part for the greater good, providing the fuel for the ships. It was a weak argument. No one should have to suffer like this.

He would continue to survive. He had to. He needed to get out of here. Kirk had to pay. Revenge was not becoming of a Vulcan.

He didn't care. He was half-human after all.

"Get back to work!" a gruff voice sounded behind him before he felt the familiar shock run through his body, pain coursing through his every nerve; the guard had pressed the controls for his collar. Spock gritted his teeth, not allowing the overseer the pleasure of hearing his pain.

He would not be broken.

* * *

Nyota Uhura sat on the bed in her dorm and read the message on her PADD again, shock settling in. It can't be true. He didn't even get a trial. She hadn't even been able to say goodbye. She looked at the sender again; there was no mistake, it was from Admiral Christopher Pike.

Tears came unabated, pooling in her eyes, obscuring her vision, before tumbling down her face. Her heart wrenched. She inhaled a shuddering breath, gasping for the air she had momentarily ignored. She couldn't look away from the last line of the message:

" _Captain Spock, son of Sarek, has been executed  
for his crimes against the empire."_

They had done everything in their power to exonerate him. Admiral Barnett and she had tried everything. Kirk had helped them when he had the time, but with his duties aboard the _Enterprise_ – he was now first officer – his time was cut short. Barnett had done everything in his power to access the 'classified' files containing the evidence against Spock to no avail. She had spent her time frantically declaring up and down that Spock had not intruded her mind. Neither of them was given much thought by the board. Once they had their 'evidence' it was over and nothing could sway them – part of her thought that Admiral Pike had something to do with it.

She was utterly heartbroken.

The tears continued to fall down her face, thick, heavy droplets that ran down her cheeks and onto the PADD she held limply in her hands. Things had been going so well, but had been shattered in an instant. She missed him deeply. She sniffled, trying to suppress the cries in her throat. She re-read the note. She heard her door open and turned to face the intruder. It was Kirk. She stared at him, sadly and he mirrored her expression. He must have heard the news.

Finally, the dam broke. She stood and threw the PADD at the wall, crying out and bringing her hands to her face, swiping angrily at her tears. But it was of no use. The moment she removed the tears, others replaced them.

Uhura felt a pair of arms wrap around her. She turned and allowed herself to fall into Kirk's arms, clinging to him in her heartache. "Oh, God, James," she cried into his chest. "Oh, God, why?"

Kirk ran his hands across her back in an effort to soothe her. "I know," he whispered in response.

"They didn't even give him a trial." Uhura wailed in his arms, tightening her grip on him. She clung to him, desperate to have someone who understood, someone who knew Spock. She was so tired of keeping it bottled up inside. She cried against him until she could cry no longer.

* * *

Spock meditated. And most of the time it worked. Most of the time, he was able to center himself and maintain his emotional control. But after a while, he wasn't sure anymore how long ago it was, he found that it was harder to find that perfect moment when everything faded away and he no longer able to find the place where he was able to control his turbulent emotions.

His days in isolation far exceeded the days he was mining now. He was beginning to think that he had been forgotten. He hoped they had forgotten him, but eventually they came back, dragging him for a day in the mines. He wasn't sure which he preferred.

" _Offer them peace, then you will have peace."_

The inscription called to him. Every day it called to him. It was true, right? His father had taught him that. It would happen someday, right? Someday he would have this peace he longed for.

How long had he been here already? Years? It had to be. He remembered…three, he believed, anniversaries. When was the forth? It had to be coming soon.

Spock looked around the floor of his cell and found the small stone on the floor. He grabbed it and crawled toward the inscription. He stared at it, mouthing the words. He brushed the hair out of his eyes; it was so long now. Another sign that it had been years. His hand ran over his chin, his facial hair had grown considerably. He probably looked horrible, horrendously unkempt. He reached out with the small stone in hand, and traced the words again, carving them deeper into the wall's surface.

It was an exercise in futility and had his mind been whole, he would have told himself he was being illogical, carving the words over and over did not make them come true any faster, but he didn't care anymore. He needed something to do when he wasn't mining or when he couldn't meditate.

The door banged open. He was hauled to his feet and chained to the ceiling. Oh, today was his anniversary.

He still refused to cry out…

…

…

It would be so easy. He could end this, make his pain go away and end this nightmare. Why was he still here? He seriously contemplated it, ending it. He stared at the wall.

… _then you will have peace._

Peace. He remembered feminine laughter, soft, throaty, sensual; lying on a bed, warm body next to him. And love. He remembered love. He would find that peace again someday.

He abandoned the rope he had taken from the mines, letting it fall to the ground from the pillar above him and picked up the small stone at his side, carving the words deeper still…

….

….

"Okay," a woman's voice broke through the silence. "Anniversary time again…Speck – Sylok…whatever your name is. How long has it been now? Eight years? It doesn't matter."

Chains pulled him up. Then pain. He was too weak to cry out…

…

…

He tried to meditate. It didn't work. For hours he tried.

He opened his eyes. He picked up the stone at his side and stared at the wall. The inscription stared back. But this time it didn't offer hope. It taunted him, tormenting him of better times; happiness, soft dark flesh under his hands, laughter, love, and everything that had been taken from him.

The stone clattered, falling from his hand…

…

The soft echo was deafening.


	10. Tunnel Companions

Spock found meditation to be entirely impossible, being unable to focus his mind. Instead he dreamed. He dreamed of Nyota, her face still strong in his mind. He dreamed of scientific discoveries he had yet to discover; how many new discoveries had he missed all these years? He dreamed of Kirk, his best friend. How had he missed the signs that told him that not all was well between the two of them? He dreamed of getting his life back. But more than anything, he dreamed of revenge. It was a wholly un-Vulcan thought, something that was purely human, but he began to feel consumed by it. But he felt powerless to make it happen.

The small food dispenser hanging off his cell door opened and he heard the slosh of his liquid meal pour in there. He closed his eyes, ignoring the pangs in his stomach. His mind drifted once more. It would be easy. It would be easy just to lie down and die. And then he wouldn't have to live in this nightmare he had been in for the last ten years.

Maybe not so easy.

The survival instinct proved once again that it was stronger than the despair. He hauled himself to his feet and rushed to the food, grabbed the bowl and slurped it down, sliding down the wall. He hated what he had been reduced to, this shaky, weak excuse of a man. He remembered when he was strong, when he was confident, sure of himself and his skills, when he was Captain, when he had love. But that was another life.

As he swallowed his…soup, for lack of a better word, Spock heard a strange tapping sound. He cocked his head, trying to ascertain the location. Today was not his day in the mine – or so he believed, he could never be certain – and he could never hear the clang of pickaxes from his location anyway. The tapping grew louder…and it sounded as though it was coming from below. Spock placed his bowl at his side and knelt on his knees, placing his ear on the ground.

Yes, it had to be coming from below. But why and from where exactly? There was no dilithium up here, all of that was hundreds of feet below. Spock leaned back and scooted against the wall, deciding to wait and see if anything were to come of it or if he was finally losing his mind like he had lost his emotional control.

A small hole appeared in the floor. Spock stared in awe, watching it grow larger, the rock dust falling inside the opening. After a moment, it bulged and the top of a head covered in graying hair appeared. It twisted, trying to make room for the shoulders. Spock stared, the side of the head baring itself to him, revealing pointed ears. Vulcan? Or perhaps a rogue Romulan? Spock felt his eyes grow larger while the figure pulled itself from the hole and to its feet. It was male, approximately the same height as Spock and something looked vaguely familiar in the stance. The way the man carried himself reminded Spock of someone he knew…

"Father?" he whispered quietly, unable to suppress his shock. Surely his father had not suffered the same fate he had.

The man looked around the cell and slowly turned around, speaking. "Forgive my intrusion."

Spock tilted his head. His voice was oddly recognizable even though he was now certain that he had never seen the man. As the mysterious man turned in his direction, it became clear that he was in fact Vulcan, one that had seen many years.

"I was not aware that there was a cell above me. I had believed that I was in the top row of cells, mistakenly as the case may be. We are still several hundreds of feet below the surface however," the man finished.

Spock stood, leaning against the wall, bracing himself, before pushing his body forward. He and the mysterious Vulcan looked at one another, studying the other. Through the long unkempt beard and the long hair they both donned, there was a certainly similarity between the two Vulcans. But for the life of him, Spock could not figure out iwhy /ithere was a similarity, unless it was his mind playing tricks with him.

Finally, the older Vulcan spoke, surprise in his voice. "Fascinating."

Spock was unable to suppress the chuckle that arose. He had been known to say that very same thing often. Embarrassed by his lack of emotional control, and in front of a fellow Vulcan no less, Spock turned to the side, breaking eye contact. He took several deep breaths before apologizing, his voice hoarse due to lack of use. "Forgive me. My emotional control is weak. I have been unable to meditate."

The Vulcan elder nodded his acceptance, his eyes carrying a hint of sympathy. "That is quite understandable, given your current circumstances. But I promise it will pass."

Something in the man's voice spoke of experience, as though he had been through the same lack of control at some point. Spock brought his gaze back to him, curiously studying him. "May I ask who you are?"

The man took a step toward him, lacing his fingers behind his back. "I believe to lessen any confusion you should simply call me 'Ambassador.' I have been a prisoner here on Rura Penthe for the last twenty-five years."

"Ambassador? There are no Vulcan ambassadors," Spock replied. So the man had experienced quite some time on this asteroid, in this prison, as he had predicted but it had clearly affected his mind. Vulcan had never been allowed to have ambassadors in this Empire, many species were not.

Spock noticed a slight lift in the corners of the 'Ambassador's' mouth before he answered. "In my time, in my reality, there were."

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Your _universe_?"

"I believe that you have come to the same conclusion as I have: that we are one and the same, but also not," the Ambassador spoke with certainty. "Although I must admit that I have never expected to come face to face with you, especially here."

Spock shook his head, feeling a surge of sympathy toward the older Vulcan. "I believe that you are mistaken. Perhaps the years in this place has eroded your memory, just as the years have made my mind play tricks on me. I will admit that I took you to be my father when you entered my cell as you do share similar characteristics, but –"

"You are Spock, are you not?"

Spock halted. He had not heard his name spoken in years. If this man knew his name, and he could never have met him given the time he had been here unless they met when Spock was naught but a toddler, then perhaps there was some truth in his words. Then, in turn, it also meant there could be some truth in Emperor Nero's declarations of being from the future.

The Ambassador continued to speak, taking Spock's silence as affirmation. "We share the same father, Sarek, and our mother, Amanda Grayson, was human."

A tilt of the head, a lift of the eyebrow followed by a whisper. "Fascinating."

The Ambassador nodded in agreement. "Also taking in the physical similarities between the two of us, the logical conclusion is that we are both Spock, but also not."

Spock's eyes darkened. "There is no talk of logic within these walls, Ambassador."

The Ambassador looked surprised by Spock's words. "Really?" He asked in disbelief. He walked toward the back wall, pointing at the engraving carved deeply on it. "And this inscription? What purpose does it serve if not to remind you of the teachings of Surak? Of logic?"

The younger Vulcan acquiesced. "Perhaps in the beginning that was the case, but I have since learned that logic holds no meaning here." He began to pace around the small cell. "If that were the case, I would not have been sent here by, of all people, James Kirk, my closest and oldest friend." He said the words harshly; even with all the years that had passed, he still had difficulty reconciling with that fact. "And I would have been exonerated for I am not guilty of any crime, except that of love. But I am fearful that even ithat /iis beginning to fade from me."

"And what has replaced your logic?"

"Revenge."

The Ambassador hung his head as though deeply saddened by the news. Spock wondered how different their lives had been. Had the Ambassador known Kirk in his universe as well? The Ambassador slowly walked around the cell, his hands behind his back, and his head down, his gaze on the ground. Spock recognized that he was trying to accept this, that he was trying to compute it.

Finally, after a moment of silence, the Ambassador released a sigh. "I had forgotten that your world is vastly different from mine. When I followed Nero through the black hole all those years ago, I entered not only the past but also an alternate reality. I must admit that I find it tremendously troubling that your friendship with Jim has been led down this path."

Spock watched as the Ambassador suddenly knelt down and began to lower himself in the tunnel he had dug. "Follow me," he said, his voice muffled by the rock. "There is much to discuss."

After quickly looking around his cell for a second, Spock followed suit. He crouched into the tunnel, finding that it had a slight incline, possibly around five degrees, maybe more. The two Vulcans crawled through the tunnel for approximately ten feet before arriving at another exit, this time leading them to the Ambassador's cell. The opening had been dug into the side of the wall, on ground level, as it was much easier to reach than the overhead ceiling.

When Spock exited the tunnel, he scanned his new surroundings and became enraptured. Somehow the Ambassador had collections of PADDs on a table he had fashioned out of the rock surrounding them. Against the far wall sat a small chair and Spock gravitated towards it. It had been years since he had sat in one, having never known what he had taken for granted until it was no longer there. He looked to the Ambassador, silently asking permission to sit. The elder Vulcan nodded and Spock slowly sat down, savoring the feel of the chair and not the hard rock beneath him. He felt the Ambassador's eyes on him while he studied the belongings scattered about, internally questioning how he acquired them.

"You mentioned love," the Ambassador spoke. "May I ask of whom you were referring?"

Spock turned to face the Ambassador. "Her name is Nyota. She was a student of mine at the Academy." He almost shrugged his shoulders, but prevented himself from doing so. "I must admit that we ignored more than one regulation and law in our quest to explore a romantic relationship."

"Nyota?" The Ambassador whispered, rolling her name on his tongue. "Do you mean Miss Uhura?"

Spock nodded. "You knew her?"

The Ambassador confirmed the answer, nodding briefly. "Yes, but I had never entered a romantic liaison with her. She was the communications officer aboard the IUSS Enterprise /iwhen I served as first officer under Captain James Kirk."

Spock quirked his brow in surprise. He had not expected Kirk to have been captain in any universe, if he was honest with himself. He was too brash, too impulsive and too impatient for command, as far as Spock was concerned. But perhaps in the Ambassador's universe, James Kirk was an honorable man, capable of commanding a starship. "Fascinating," Spock replied. "Before I had been sent here I had been promoted to Captain."

The Ambassador looked surprised for a moment, even if only in his eyes. "Another way our worlds are different."

"Indeed." Spock looked at the hole in the sidewall where they had entered the cell. It was clear that the Ambassador had been digging his escape for years. Perhaps he would be able to assist. He turned his attention to the other Vulcan. "You spoke of escape."

"Yes." The reply came quickly. "As we are below the surface, I believe that digging a tunnel at a slight angle would bring us away from the complex and finally to the surface. I simply made the mistake of believing I was already housed in the upper cells. It is no trouble however." The Ambassador explained. "With the two of us we can now continue the tunnel from your cell and reach the surface in," he paused, mentally calculating. "Possibly ten years, providing my calculations are accurate."

Ten years? That would be too long. It was entirely possible under their current living conditions they would not survive long enough to make the escape. It was disheartening to say the least. Would the attempt even be worth it, or would it just speed up their deaths? Spock suppressed a sigh. He knew that an instantaneous fix, no matter how much he desired it, was not likely, but he was beginning to feel hopeless.

The Ambassador caught the dismay from him and the possible refusal. "Or does something else demand your time? Another pressing engagement, perhaps?" He stepped toward Spock and continued. In return for your help, I offer something priceless."

Spock's eyebrow once again rose, this time in sarcasm. "My freedom?

He shook his head. "As you are well aware, freedom can be taken away. I offer knowledge." Spock looked at him curiously, urging him to continue. "I offer knowledge of a universe where fear doesn't reign, a government that is not tyrannical in nature, but rather a joint organization between planets…in a federation. It does not have to be the way it is now."

That was the Ambassador's universe? Something that different? Spock couldn't help but find the Ambassador's words to be impossible. "This universe is all I have ever known. I know of no other way."

"Yes, but you could bring in a new era." The Ambassador tried a new tactic. "If anything, escape can bring you back to your Nyota."

Yes, that had some appeal. He missed her horribly and found himself wondering about where life had taken her all these years. Was she waiting for him, hoping against hope that he would return to her? Or had she moved on, marrying someone else? He feared the latter. He knew it was unfair to her, but he desperately hoped that she still loved him. He needed to see her again. The odds of this plan working were stacked against them, however. But perhaps it would be better to try rather than give up.

Mind made up, Spock replied enthusiastically. "When shall we begin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um…yeah…about how long the two Spocks have been in prison. Well, I completely, for some unknown reason, forgot about Pon Farr as I was writing this. I was way too far ahead once I realized my mistake and since I was on a deadline, I didn't feel like going back and fixing it. So, um…just pretend they meditated their way through it XD


	11. Neglect Becomes Their Ally

When they weren't in the mines, searching for dilithium, Spock and the Ambassador continued to dig the tunnel towards the surface. It was a long and painstaking process and would most likely take years to reach fruition, if it ever did. But they continued to dig, even after a long day in the mines. It became a sort of escape for the two of them, despite the tediousness of the task.

Spock was pleased to have someone to converse with after all these years alone and he was pretty sure his elder self felt the same. Loneliness was a torture for any social creature. As they dug, they compared their lives: their relationships with the people they knew, the discoveries that had been made, and what led them to this path and anything else that came to mind.

Even though he was silent on the matter, Spock could tell that the Ambassador had been deeply saddened by the news that he had been incarcerated largely in part because of James Kirk. His silence led Spock to believe that the Ambassador must have also had a close friendship with Kirk but the relationship did not end in the same manner as his. And this deeply troubled him as well. He had always believed that he and Kirk would be friends until the day they died. But due to Kirk's jealousy, professionally and personally, he was locked away.

The Ambassador did seem to want to learn everything he could about Spock's relationship with Uhura. He asked how they met, how they fell into a relationship and anything else he could think of. Spock answered his questions while simultaneously cross-examining him. He learned that the Ambassador's relationship with the Uhura of his universe was vastly different, purely professional. The Ambassador had always thought she was a beautiful woman, certainly worthy of the attention she garnered from the men on the ship, and he admired her mind, finding her to be highly intelligent, however, their relationship had never moved beyond that of friends. There was something in the way the Ambassador spoke of his Uhura, with a sort of longing in his voice that made Spock believe that he regretted not pursuing a closer relationship.

The Ambassador also gave Spock the knowledge of his universe, the way they were governed, the way everything worked. Spock was entranced by a world where Vulcans weren't considered second-class citizens but instead valued members of society who were respected. They were even one of the founding members of this Federation the Ambassador mentioned. The Federation was an apparent alliance between the many races of alien in the alpha quadrant, where everyone was valued. They weren't conquered but rather the members petitioned to join, something that was vastly different from Spock's own universe. And there were no laws preventing people of differing races from embarking on romantic relationships. Inter-species relationships were common and accepted. Even Spock's parents had been able to bond in the Ambassador's world. Spock was saddened to learn that his other self had known his mother and he had asked questions about her. Yet despite being entranced with the possibilities, Spock couldn't quite imagine it, for all he had known was this world he lived in; full of oppression and tyranny.

Several months into their partnership and dare he say it, friendship – Spock still found it odd that this man shared the same DNA as he and yet was so different – and Spock lay in the tunnel behind the older Vulcan, passing him the small tools, mostly consisting of discarded metal they found in the mines, they used to dig while holding an illuminated PADD for light. The Ambassador placed the small amount of chiseled rock he gathered into one of their food containers. They would discard it in the mines so they would not be caught with it.

* * *

There was one area which the Ambassador had not spoken of: his arrival to this parallel universe. Spock had often wondered how he came to be there and the circumstances surrounding it and one day, he could no longer suppress the urge to ask. "If you do not mind my asking, Ambassador, how did you arrive here in this universe, in this time?"

The Ambassador paused in his actions before turning his head to face the younger Vulcan. He seemed to be weighing the reasons why he should or should not inform Spock, who waited patiently. The Ambassador took a deep breath. "Very well," he agreed. He returned his attention to his digging.

"One hundred twenty nine years from now a star will explode and threaten to destroy the galaxy, destroying everything in its path. I promised the Romulans that I would save their planet. We outfitted our fastest ship. Using what we had called 'red matter' I would create a black hole which was to absorb the exploding star. But as I was en route when the unthinkable happened; the supernova destroyed Romulus."

The Ambassador sighed heavily. "I had little time. I had to extract the red matter and shoot it into the supernova. As I began my return trip I was intercepted by Nero, the last of the Romulan Empire. But as I attempted to escape both of us were pulled into the black hole. I went through first and therefore arrived first." The Ambassador passed the dirt container to Spock and signaled for him to back out of the tunnel.

Spock did so, and waited for the Ambassador to slip out of the tunnel as well. Once his elder was upright Spock leaned down and covered the opening, in case the guards peered in. "And what occurred after you arrived through the black hole?"

"I knew that Nero would blame me for the destruction of his planet, and I also knew he would stop at nothing to avenge its loss. But I could not allow Nero to obtain the red matter, for I feared what he would do with it, so I fled." The Ambassador began to pace around the cell. "I flew to a nearby moon upon which I found an abandoned research facility. I left my ship in the landing dock of the facility, as the ship contained the only device capable of keeping the red matter stable. I could not allow such technology fall into the hands of not only Nero but also someone from this time, someone who would not know its purpose or how it worked. That was my biggest fear."

"How can you be sure that this red matter is not tampered with by anyone else?" Spock asked with curiosity in his voice. If such technology really did exist, technology that could create a black hole as well as a tunnel through space/time, then it truly was dangerous.

"Before I left the facility, I reprogrammed the computer systems to recognize my vocal patterns and face, a program that my ship already possessed." The Ambassador shrugged. "Perhaps it is not the infallible system, but under the current situation, it would have to do." He resumed his tale. "I repaired a small shuttlecraft that had been abandoned at the facility and made my escape, attempting to get far from the facility, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Nero located me."

"And how long before that took place?"

"Merely days after he took over your Empire. Upon learning that I no longer possessed the red matter, Nero locked me away in here, believing that one day I would break and tell him of the location. But he clearly underestimated me."

"Clearly."

* * *

The digging continued and slowly through the years but surely the pair of Vulcans made progress towards the surface. They still estimated the tunnel to be several hundreds of feet below but without a point of reference they were at best guessing, something Vulcans detested. A pattern began to emerge as to when they would be taken to the mines and they were prepared when it occurred. It was not much of a hindrance on their progress as their combined superior strength made the process speedier than it would have had they been human, but it was a bit of an annoyance. Anniversaries came and went and Spock found that it was easier to ignore the pain of the whip when he was preoccupied with thoughts of freedom.

Spock continued to learn much from his elder self about a Federation and Spock began to truly believe that perhaps it was possible…in another universe. He knew that the Ambassador was trying to encourage him to try and establish such form of government once he was free.

But he was still much too consumed with thoughts of revenge to even contemplate forming a new government. It was illogical and considerably "Un-Vulcan" but the anger still resided deep within him. He had no way of knowing if Kirk and the other men were even still alive. He had no way of knowing if Uhura was still alive. He hoped she was, just as he hoped she was waiting for him, but the likelihood of such occurring was slim. It was just false hope as far as he was concerned. But he clung to it nonetheless.

One day, after they were finished digging for the day, the Ambassador recalled an earlier conversation the two of them had shared about how Spock came to be in the prison. "You once told me that Admiral Pike was about to dismiss the treasonous charges against you before he changed the subject and brought up your relationship with Miss Uhura."

Spock was surprised by the conversation as they had not discussed the reasons he was here for several years. But he quickly replied. "Yes, but as I have told you, in this world I have indeed broken the law in regards to our relationship. Although I never forced myself on her as the Admiral believed, regardless of the evidence. You know as well as I do that consensual mind melds do not leave any visible sign on brain scans."

"No," the Ambassador agreed. "But the question remains, what reason did the Admiral have for going through the initial charade and then promptly arresting you for your relationship with Miss Uhura?"

Spock shook his head. "I do not know." He began to pace around the cell, considering the reasons. "As far as I am aware, the Admiral had nothing to gain from imprisoning me. Although…" he paused.

The Ambassador urged him on. "Yes?"

Spock turned to face him, hands behind his back. "He did inform me that Nero had escaped yet that information had not been released. There is the possibility that as the incident recently occurred, it had not been told to others. But I must admit that it appeared as though Pike was the only one aware of it. I have no explanation for why he would tell me."

The Ambassador nodded. "No, I cannot see a reason either. But there must be something else that occurred that can help explain."

"Once the subject of Nyota was brought up, the Admiral refused to let me defend myself." Spock marched around the cell, trying to recall that fateful night. Suddenly, he halted; perhaps he had finally found the answer. "Power."

He turned to the Ambassador, who looked at him, silently waiting for him to explain. "Jim told me of his professional and personal aspirations he hoped to attain at my expense. Commander Sulu also had professional reasons for my incarceration. With me out of the way, so to speak, Jim would have been able to move up the chain of command on the flagship and Sulu would have regained the captaincy. And Nyota would be alone, leaving Jim to attempt to seduce her, although I must admit, I do not believe he would be successful in that endeavor. Yet with Nero out of command, there remained an opening, so to speak. With the exception of Doctor McCoy, who simply had personal reasons against me although I had no dealings with him, Jim and Sulu could regain the power they believed was theirs. I had no dealings with Admiral Pike either and had in fact never met him before that night. Yet with Nero out of the empire, there remained a vacancy in the role of emperor. Perhaps if he orchestrated Nero's escape under my name and then recaptured him, he hoped to gain that position."

The Ambassador nodded slowly. "Power breeds corruption."

Spock released an angry sigh, momentarily forgetting his control, but he did not believe the Ambassador would hold it against him. He had been made a scapegoat; someone who took the punishments for crimes that were not his own, while they happily lived on as though nothing had happened. He had been made a fool.

In a rare, uncontrollable moment of rage, Spock reached out and grabbed the table in the Ambassador's chamber and tossed it over, the PADDs scattering on the ground, the sound echoing in the small room.

* * *

Later that night, Spock tried meditating once more, hoping to find his center after his embarrassing emotional outburst earlier. As he did not have the flame he usually used to focus his mind on, he placed the long forgotten King, the one that Kirk and he had traded back and forth in happier times, in front of him. His eyes focused on the small black chess piece as he sought to regain control.

His thoughts centered on revenge.


	12. Death Leads to Escape

Spock lifted the pickaxe over his head and slammed it down, the familiar feel of crumbling rock gathering around his feet. It was not overly strenuous work, as his Vulcan strength required him to use less force than a human would need, but the way in which he, and the others, was forced to work here in these mines was demeaning. It was true that the resources mined from these caves were necessary, as the majority of the ships in the Fleet as well as other warp-drive capable vessels required the crystalline mineral to regulate the matter/antimatter reaction, but the methods employed to gather the mineral were barbaric to say the least.

Spock was at the end of the long line of prisoners forced to work today. To his left, down a few prisoners, the Ambassador also slaved away, placing rock and minerals in the large cart. Usually they were nowhere near each other while working in the mines, but today was different. They had been hauled out of their cells in the middle of sleep and put to work. Among them were prisoners of different races found throughout the quadrant; from Andorians to Tellarites to Bolians and even humans, anyone who was believed to have wronged the Empire or were falsely accused, as Spock was, were thrown together.

Spock watched the Ambassador reach out to steady a human man who was dangerously close to fainting under the strain. Even though they were genetically the same person – though he had to admit there was still a small part of him that did not believe this was true even if all signs said it was – Spock did not see the Ambassador as a reflection of himself but rather as an entirely separate person. They had experienced different upbringings, different ways of life; and even though they had known the same people in their respective universes, the relationships between them were all different. As a result, throughout the years of their friendship born out of a need for companionship and mutual assistance, Spock saw him as a substitute father figure. He had taught him so much, so much which could be applied to this universe, if it was given a chance. And maybe, hopefully someday it would be.

The metal collar used to remotely subdue the prisoners dug into Spock's neck. Even after all these years, he had yet to grow accustomed to it, because it was so unnatural, so stiff. He reached a hand up to readjust it against his neck in an effort to make it more comfortable. He saw a Romulan overseer come into the tunnel out of the corner of his eye and dropped his hand. He did not wish to experience the pain today, if it could be helped. Spock raised the pickaxe once more and resumed his work. The Andorian at his side faltered slightly and received a shock from the collar. Spock attempted to resist assisting him since the overseer stood behind him.

The work in the mines continued for several hours with no breaks for sustenance or even water. It was to be expected. At about hour five Spock heard a faint rumbling. It sounded as though it was coming from above them. He needed to hear the sound more clearly, but the clanging from the axes drowned it out. Spock reached out to the Andorian and told him to halt what he was doing but he ignored him, not wanting to be shocked again. The overseer demanded him to resume working but Spock paid no attention, seeing the dust and small fragments on the ground begin to shake. The rumbling grew louder.

Spock met the Ambassador's eyes. He too had heard the sound and had reached the same hypothesis. The mine shaft was caving in. And quickly from the looks of it. The rest of the prisoners had noticed the shaking and the rumble and were beginning to toss down their axes, backing up away from the stone walls. The overseer yelled at them, ordering them to return to work but no one paid him any attention.

The Ambassador walked towards Spock, as he was on the outside of the line, near the only exit to the shaft. The others noticed and began to follow but where the Ambassador was a picture of calm, they panicked. They ran, pushing and shoving in their efforts to escape. The overseer, finally realizing that this was a legitimate cave-in, began to run towards the exit as well. But they were not quick enough.

The rocks from the ceiling began to tumble to the ground, scattering dust about, making it difficult to see. Spock backed up into the empty mine shaft, to avoid getting hit by the stone. He scanned the entrance, waiting for the Ambassador, who had been the first one to make his way towards Spock and had gotten close but then the rocks fell. And they continued to fall. Spock heard screaming from those running, trying to avoid getting hit by the large boulders. When the dust settled, he saw that the entire entrance to this particular shaft was blocked. Spock scanned the area and saw that he had been the only one to escape. The Ambassador was no where to be found, which meant he was trapped inside, along with everyone else.

Spock ran forward and fell to his knees, pulling at the rocks in an effort to get to the Ambassador. As quickly as he could, he lifted rock after rock and tossed them aside. Several minutes passed until finally, he came upon a hand. It was blue, which meant that it was either Bolian or Andorian. He removed the rocks around the hand, revealing the body of the owner, the Andorian who had been next to him, his blue blood staining the rocks underneath him. Spock knelt down and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Suppressing a sigh, he dragged the body from the rubble and laid him against the wall of the mine shaft.

One by one Spock freed the bodies and one by one he found no survivors. His hands became stained with the blood of so many different species; red, blue and even green. He began to doubt the Ambassador survived. When he had all but given up, he came upon a hand flexing slightly and he reached out and grasped the green-bloodied wrist, and mentally linked with the individual slightly, feeling the familiar mind, so similar to his own. The Ambassador. More frantically, Spock removed the stones, clearing the area so that he could pull him free.

As Spock pulled his limp body from the rubble, the Ambassador groaned. Spock gently lowered his body on the ground and accessed his injuries. He lifted the Ambassador's torn and bloodies tunic and noticed that the dark green bruise forming on his stomach. Internal bleeding. Gently, but with some pressure, Spock felt his ribs. The Ambassador gasped under his touch, his breath shaky. Spock feared that a broken rib had punctured his lung. Upon the Ambassador's head was a large gash and green blood poured down the side of his face. He opened his dazed eyes and looked at the younger Vulcan.

He was dying. Spock was surprised by how much this upset him. He could not imagine his time here without him anymore. Before they met, Spock had begun to lose himself in the loneliness, but the Ambassador had helped him find his center once more, to regain at least a semblance of the Vulcan he had been before, even if his mind was overrun with thoughts of vengeance. He had at least regained his mental control and function. If the Ambassador were to die here, Spock feared that he would become lost once more without an anchor to keeping him steady.

Spock tore off a sleeve from his own tunic and wrapped it around the older Vulcan's head, trying to control the bleeding from his head wound. It was perhaps illogical to do so when he was going to die regardless of any action he took, but Spock had forsaken logic long ago when revenge consumed him.

"You must…use this opportunity to escape," the Ambassador spoke to Spock, his voice quiet, calm.

Spock shook his head. "Do not speak," he told him, fearing that it would speed up his death. "Speaking may be detrimental to your survival."

"I am going to die regardless of any action taken here," the Ambassador told him. His voice was the epitome of calm despite the severity of the situation. The balance he had attained with his human emotions and logic always impressed Spock who had always struggled with it throughout his life, but especially here in this place. "Spock, you must run."

"They will find me," Spock replied, refusing to leave his side.

"They will scan the DNA of the dead here." He halted as he began to cough. Spock lifted his head slightly to aid him. The Ambassador took deep shuddering breaths before continuing. "As we share the same DNA, they will believe that you have died in the collapse. You must go."

"Ambassador-"

"Go," he insisted, his hand clinging to Spock's bloody tunic. "Go. You must go."

Spock paused, hesitating, before replying, "Very well."

"The weapon, the red matter, you must make sure that it does not fall into the hands of anyone who would use it for evil," the Ambassador said, his voice growing weaker.

"How do you propose I do that? Where is it located?" Spock asked. He wanted to do as the Ambassador asked of him, but he had no idea where to find it.

The Ambassador took a deep breath before reaching his hand up, to Spock's psi points. "Perhaps this will be easier," he said. It took Spock a moment to realize that the Ambassador wanted to meld. Not once during their entire time together had they shared a mind meld with one another and the last meld Spock had undergone had been with Uhura the night before his arrest. Spock had wondered how their minds would react to the other if they truly were the same individual from different universes. Spock nodded his consent and the Ambassador whispered the words that would connect them.

 _My mind to your mine, my thoughts to your thoughts._ Spock felt the Ambassador's essence wash over his being, his mind organized and yet chaotic. Despite his great emotional control on the outside, inside the Ambassador's mind was a rumbling whirlwind of emotions. While Spock watched passively, the Ambassador recalled the events that brought him to this universe. Spock saw the events that lead to the Ambassador's arrival to this universe, felt his despair and guilt when Romulus imploded, the rush to contain the supernova before it caused more damage, then Nero, blaming him, and alarm as he and Nero were pulled into the black hole. Spock saw him enter the other side of the black hole first, felt his fear for what Nero would do if he managed to get a hold of the red matter. He saw the Ambassador navigate his small ship quickly away from the point of his arrival. Spock saw his coordinates on the display panels and memorized them, watching them change as he flew and flew. Finally the Ambassador began to descend towards the surface of a large moon, near a planet Spock was unfamiliar with. He made note of the coordinates once more and his showed me the moon's surface, the abandoned facility.

And then the Ambassador pulled his hand from Spock's face and Spock momentarily struggled to separate his memories, his experiences, from the Ambassador's. The meld had weakened the Ambassador even further. His arm fell to the ground and he struggled to draw air into his punctured lungs. "Please," he struggled. "Please do not kill Jim. He may have been blinded by jealousy, but please, do not kill him."

The Ambassador's pleas pained Spock. He had been so overwhelmed with thoughts of revenge throughout his years here he could not let go. "I…cannot promise that, Ambassador."

"Please," he tried once more. "I know he wronged you but I cannot believe he is a bad man, just misguided."

Even though he believed he would have trouble honoring the Ambassador's final wish, Spock finally agreed. "Very well," he told him. "But I cannot forgive him."

"Thank you," he whispered. "That is all I ask."

The Ambassador took a deep breath before releasing it for one last time. Spock watched his elder's eyes cloud over and brought his hand up to gently close his eyelids. Spock took a moment to gently lay him across the ground, folding his hands over his chest. In the distance, behind the pile of rubble, he heard shouting. The guards were distracted by the cave in. The Ambassador was right, this was his opportunity.

Spock glanced around the mine shaft, finding it still empty. He was the only living being this side of the collapse. He stood, rushing towards the end of the path and ran around the corner, navigating his way through the tunnels and towards what he hoped was the exit. As they were below the surface, he rushed towards any ladder, staircase or elevator he could find, believing they would be his best option to reach the surface.

His path was not entirely void of obstacles. Several times he would see guards and he would dispatch them however he could, as quietly as he could. Other times he would attempt to sneak past them. As he quietly and quickly rounded one corner, Spock saw a guard in front of him, his back facing his direction. He slowed his steps and snuck towards him, reaching out and nerve-pinching him. The guard grunted and fell slightly before Spock caught his body and lowered it quietly. He grabbed the guard's phaser, feeling more comfortable with a ranged weapon in case he was cornered.

A few more close encounters, a few more ladders climbed, before finally the first sign of the exit came. There was a bright light emanating in front of Spock, signaling an exit to the surface. He ran towards it as quickly as he could, finding the small room surprisingly devoid of guards. He pried the door open and ran through it.

Spock was almost overwhelmed by the cold air that encompassed him. After being inside the mines for so long, he had momentarily forgotten that the surface of Rura Penthe was covered in glaciers and freezing temperatures. He would need to find either shelter or proper clothing soon if he were to survive the escape. Spock's eyes scanned the surface, squinting at the bright light from the three suns reflecting off the snow. Even if he had the means and someone waiting for him, he knew that beaming out of the mining facility would be impossible because of the magnetic shield surrounding it. He would need a ship or a shuttle.

Voices sounded behind him. He had been followed. He ran forward, ignoring the cold, looking for an abandoned space craft. He dodged behind storage containers to hide, eyes scanning the distance before he spotted a shuttle in the distance. The engines were still a sign that it had either just arrived or was being prepared for takeoff. As he ran towards it, the guards, who had discovered he had fled, fired their phasers in his direction. Spock dodged to the side, avoiding their fire and looked over his shoulder, firing the phaser he had, managing to hit one in the chest.

When Spock reached the shuttle, he hurriedly entered it, finding the doors open. He closed them behind him and rushed to the pilot's console, eyes scanning the controls in an attempt to read them. It was Romulan, a language he had a vast understanding of. Spock sat and lifted the shuttle off the ground and towards the sky.

Spock was quickly able to leave orbit and plotted a course far from the prison. But having no fix on his current location, he was merely guessing as to where he would end up. Once he had reached more familiar space, he would be able to plot a course to either Earth or the abandoned facility with the red matter.

Suddenly the shuttle's alarms blared, signaling that he was being fired upon. The guards had boarded another spacecraft and followed him. Spock performed evasive maneuvers, attempting to avoid the shots. He weaved in and out, watching the phaser fire fly around the shuttle. But his luck soon ran out and his shuttle suffered a direct hit to the engines. The shuttle lurched forward by the force. Spock tried to regain control of the spacecraft, but the shot had been more powerful than he first believed, the engines were beginning to fail.

He navigated the shuttle to the nearby planet that the asteroid was passing by. He would need to perform an emergency landing, if it was possible with the Romulan guards trailing behind. The shuttle entered the atmosphere and travelled several thousand of feet before it was hit again, this time blowing out navigation control and causing the shuttle to free-fall towards the surface. Spock tried his best to control the ship, hoping to make a soft landing, but the planet's surface was fast approaching.

He braced for impact.


	13. Gaila and the Mercenaries

A shriek awoke Spock. Startled, he jerked up against the seat, the fastenings holding him tightly in his spot, as the shuttle had landed at nose first, at a slight angle and gravity wanted to propel his body forward. His head ached. Feeling something warm and sticky trailing down the side of his face, he reached up and gently touched it. Slowly he pulled his hand back and examined it, finding it stained green with blood. He would need to bandage the wound quickly. Spock examined the rest of his body searching for more wounds but only found bruises. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, his vision having grown slightly blurry.

The emergency lights in the shuttle's cabin had activated and he noticed that there was no power coming from the engine. He looked ahead, finding the viewport window had shattered in the force of the crash. It was dark outside...wherever he was.

Spock unfastened the safety harness and slumped forward, the gravity tossing his body forward. He reached out to grab a hold of the console, preventing himself from falling further and slowly stood. As the shuttle was only at a slight angle, standing was not difficult.

The shriek rang out again, the same noise that had woken him. This time Spock was able to tell that it was a scream. Female from the sound of it. She was terrified. Ignoring his body's protests, Spock quickly scanned the floor, searching for the phaser he had stolen from the guard in the prison, but it was no where to be found, possibly having been thrown out the viewport window during the crash landing. He heard another scream and decided the urgency required him to forgo the weapon and he rushed to the doors, prying them open and exiting.

Spock paused, waiting to hear the sound again. His eyes scanned over the horizon, taking in the deep blue, almost green, sky and low hanging clouds. Around him were large jagged rocks and snow-covered mountains but in the far distance, he could see red lights and low smog, perhaps a city of some sort. There was little vegetation in his current location, this unforgiving environment. He listened for a few more seconds trying to ascertain the woman's location.

The scream came once more, coming from his left. Hurriedly, ignoring his pain, Spock rushed towards the sound. He vaulted over rocks and stones, his feet pounding into the ground. The scream came again, much closer this time. He was heading the right direction. Spock whirled around a corner and saw a figure of a woman running towards him, her bright red hair glinting in the faint light. She faltered slightly when she saw him, perhaps assuming he was with the large humanoid lumbering behind her. As Spock ran towards her, he called out in an attempt to reassure her that he was not there to hurt her. His destination was the male figure behind her.

Spock saw a flash of green when the woman and he ran past each other, her to safety and him to her pursuer. Both the large man and Spock halted just before they ran into each other and Spock was able to get his first good look at him. He was large, heavyset and he stood tall, perhaps a foot taller than Spock. Spock's eyes trailed up his form, taking in his apparent civilian clothing, his long kinky hair and the ridged forehead. Klingon.

Yes, he was larger than Spock and would be a strong opponent, given his race's warrior nature, but Spock's strength would rival with the Klingon's and his smaller frame would give him the added advantage of agility. Spock assumed the starting position of _suus mahna_ , the Vulcan martial arts, waiting for the fight to begin. The Klingon laughed at him, sizing him up, no doubt taking the Vulcan's tattered clothing and bloodied face as a sign that he was merely a minor setback, something to be dealt with quickly. Spock glanced behind him and noticed that the woman had stopped running and had turned around, watching them.

The Klingon launched first, noticing Spock's distracted gaze. But Spock was able to sidestep the attack, his speed much quicker than the Klingon's. The fight continued as such, with Spock avoiding, sometime narrowly, the Klingon's attacks and with Spock occasionally striking him. Several moments later, Spock was able to gain the upper hand. He sidestepped a punch and grabbed the Klingon's arm pulling his body forward, causing him lose his balance. He stumbled and Spock moved behind him, grabbing him by his neck, his arms encircling the Klingon, and he squeezed tightly, attempting to draw the air out of him. The Klingon thrashed against him and Spock held him tighter, trying to make him pass out.

In his attempts to render the Klingon unconscious, Spock failed to see the Klingon reaching into his clothing for a weapon until the woman called out, warning him, a second too late. Spock felt the blade pierce his abdomen and realized that he had to use deadly force to dispatch the Klingon. Spock grabbed the Klingon's chin and forehead before twisting with as much strength as he could. The sound of bone cracking signaled his success and he released him, the limp body crumbling to the ground.

Spock took a deep breath in an effort to ease the pain from his stomach wound. He placed his hand against it, pressing down. The bleeding needed to be stopped, or at best, slowed until medical attention could be found. Spock stepped back and leaned against a rock. The woman hesitantly walked toward him. Spock watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting her appearance clearly for the first time. She indeed had the bright red hair he saw earlier. And that flash of green as she had run past him was her skin color; she was Orion. She was physically appealing, with bright blue eyes. But she was not dressed as any Orion woman Spock had ever seen. A typical Orion woman, or the ones that he had seen, was barely clothed, dressed in bikinis or loincloths barely covering their most intimate areas. It was meant to entice men of various species who were susceptible to their pheromones.

But this Orion woman was fully clothed, dressed in what appeared to be a uniform of some sort. Her clothing bore the marks of an attempted assault, having been ripped at some point. Her red hair had been tied back out of her face, the loose tendrils framing her face. Spock watched as she grew closer, her eyes wide.

"Oh, my God," she said, surprising Spock with her accent-free Standard and typical human saying. She reached her hand out and sought his wound, wanting to examine it herself. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt. Thank you, sir, for saving me. I am so, so stupid," she finished, pulling his hand away from his stomach wound.

"It is of no concern," Spock told her, trying to push her hand away.

But she was not having it. "No concern? You could have died!" she exclaimed, ignoring his protests, lifting his tunic. "And it would have been my fault. I can't live with that on my conscious!"

She pressed down on the wound and Spock suppressed a grunt. "Then perhaps you should not have angered a Klingon," he replied.

She scoffed. "It's not like it takes much to make one mad. But just for the record, I didn't ask for your help." She lowered his tunic and brought her hand to his head wound. "But thank you anyway."

Spock remained silent, suspecting that she would not appreciate his admission that he had acted on instinct upon hearing a female in danger. As Kirk would say, he fell for the damsel in distress act. She brushed his disheveled hair aside, gently removing it from the sticky blood from his head wound so she could examine it closer. Suddenly she pulled away her hand, "Oh, you're Vulcan."

"And you are Orion," Spock replied, an eyebrow rose at her statement.

She was momentarily flustered by his response. Spock realized that he had embarrassed her by mentioning that she has just stated the obvious, something most Vulcans found to be a waste of time. "No, no," she started. "I just meant 'no touching'. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

Spock shook my head. "I am not uncomfortable," he reassured her. "Had I been, I would have told you."

"Right, sorry," she mumbled, resuming her examination. Her voice was soft when she spoke again. "We need to get you medical attention."

"That is not necessary," Spock replied, shaking his head. He had been able to suppress the pain quite easily, which he took to mean that the wound was not as serious as she believed it to be but when he stood, he suddenly faltered, finding that he was weaker than he expected, the adrenaline having left his system. He stumbled back down against the rock. "Perhaps you are right, but I am unsure of where one would find such."

The Orion woman stepped toward him and helped him stand, supporting his weight against her, arm wrapping around his waist. "I know where we can get help," she told him. She tugged gently. "Come on, our camp is this way."

Spock allowed her to lead him as she navigated her way around the rocks flawlessly, appearing to know where she was. As Spock had no bearing on their location, he entrusted his well-being to her, not receiving a deceptive feeling from her. "May I ask," Spock spoke. "What planet are we on? I have been unable to ascertain that."

" _Qo'noS_ ," she replied. In Standard, that translated to Kronos, the Klingon homeworld, which would explain the man Spock killed moments ago. They walked for several minutes in silence before she spoke again. "My name is Gaila, by the way."

"Miss Gaila," Spock nodded. "You may call me Spock."

"Spock," she repeated, a smile forming on her face. She turned her eyes towards him, studying him as she led Spock towards this 'camp' she mentioned earlier. "If you don't mind me asking, where do you come from? Judging from your outfit and that collar around your neck, you're not from around here."

"You are correct," Spock replied. "I am not." He did not elaborate, unsure of how much he should tell her. He had only just met her and was not entirely convinced he should trust her just yet, despite not sensing trickery in her touch. And if she was trustworthy, he did not want to risk her life should he be pursued further.

"Okay," she dragged the word out, clearly wishing he had been more forthcoming. Suddenly, Gaila exclaimed, "Oh, here we are!"

Spock was unsure of where 'here' was. He did not see anything in front of them except more rocks and snow-covered mountains in the background. His eyes scanned the horizon in the off chance that he had missed it, but still nothing. He was about to comment on this to Gaila when she reached into her pocket and extracted a communications device.

"This is Gaila, come in," she spoke into the device.

"'Ey, lass, Scotty 'ere," the faint crackly voice replied.

Gaila smiled at the sound of the man's voice. "Hey, Scotty. Open the doors, we've got company."

"Good or bad?" the man called Scotty replied, sounding worried.

"Good," Gaila was quick to reply. "Or at least I think it's good."

"Okay, just a sec."

Spock soon understood why she had stopped where she had and why he didn't see anything other than more rocks. There was a hum and a faint crackling as the small ship she had referred to as their 'camp' was revealed. It had been cloaked, with a cloaking device that must have been misappropriated from a Romulan or Klingon ship – most likely Klingon given their location – as this particular ship looked as though it was a former merchant ship. Unless things had changed a lot since Spock had been in prison, merchant ships were not equipped with such devices.

The large cargo bay doors opened and Gaila helped him up the steep platform and into the ship. Once they had reached the top, they came face to face with several members of the ship's crew. Spock noticed several humans but also various other alien species, such as Andorian and Tellarite. He also noticed that many of them were armed, probably as a precaution, and that many of the boxes scattered around the cargo bay were marked as containing firearms. They greeted Gaila warmly, welcoming her back to the ship with open arms while they cautiously watched Spock. Gaila noticed their vigilance and stepped forward.

"Hey, everyone, this is Spock. He saved me from a Klingon who, uh…" She giggled. "Well, he wasn't too happy to see me."

Her endorsement easily melted the ice and Spock saw their demeanors relax. One of the men stepped forward and smiled at him. He was human, with a thinning head of reddish hair and round friendly eyes. "I am the leader of this little band of misfits. Montgomery Scott. You can call me Scotty." He pointed towards the Orion. "Thanks for saving our Gaila," he said, his thick accent speaking of Scottish origins.

Spock nodded to him. "It was no concern."

Gaila scoffed and rolled her eyes at his response. "No, you don't. Don't downplay this," she said. She looked at Scotty almost worriedly. "We need the doctor. This dumbass got hurt and is pretending it's nothing."

Scotty looked Spock over and noticed the wound on his stomach, which he was still keeping pressure on, but the blood had begun to flow over his hand. Scotty's eyes widened and he called back. "Oy! Chekov! Go an' fetch us Doctor M'Benga!"

An excitable young man, with a mop of curly brown hair and wide blue eyes ran forward. "Aye, Keptain!" he exclaimed, a Russian accent influencing his words. "Right away!" He rushed toward the door at the rear of the cargo bay and headed towards Dr. M'Benga's location.

Spock was thankful when Gaila finally led him towards a place to sit, even if it was an upside down cargo box. He had begun to feel slightly light-headed and he knew that Scotty would have questions.

"So, what prison did you escape from, mate?"

Spock knew his appearance must have been more forthcoming than he was so he knew they would not take evasion as an answer this time. "I have spent the last twelve years in the mining prison of Rura Penthe."

Shocked gasps erupted in the cargo bay. Spock looked over the others, noting their surprised expressions.

"Holy crap!" Gaila exclaimed. She truly had an unusual way of speaking. "No one's ever escaped from there! How did you pull that one off?"

Spock recounted the story of how a cave-in occurred in the mines, giving him an opportunity to flee. He told them of how he made his way outside the mines and onto an abandoned shuttle. He finished his tale by describing how he had been followed into orbit and fire upon, causing him to crash land on this planet. The crew stared at him with wide eyes. Spock did not believe his tale was anything extraordinary, but these men and women were looking at him with something akin to awe. It was a little uncomfortable; he did not feel worthy of such adulation.

"If I may ask, Mr. Scott," Spock spoke, looking upon the leader. "Who are you? I gather from the number of people on your crew, the amount of fire power you have stored here in the cargo bay and the fact that you are using a cloaking device, that you are mercenaries."

Scotty nodded, not seeming surprised at Spock's correct assessment. He was Vulcan after all, a species known for being observant. "You're right, for the most part. It's a bit more complicated than that. Many of-"

"Out of the way!" the voice of the young man known as Chekov shouted, interrupted Scotty's explanation. "Doctor coming through!" The crowd dispersed and allowed him to pass. Behind him, with a medical bag in his hand, was another human man of African heritage. Spock presumed he was the doctor.

He rushed to Spock and dropped to his knees. "I am Doctor M'Benga," he introduced himself. "I am told you are Spock."

Spock nodded. "Yes."

"Why were you tossed in Rura Penthe?" Scott asked, while Dr. M'Benga opened his medical bag and proceeded to examine Spock's head wound, cleaning the area and disinfecting the wound.

Sensing that this group of people meant him no harm, Spock decided to speak the truth. "I was a member of Starfleet. And in a fit of professional and personal jealousy, I was falsely accused of treason and _kae'at k'lasa_."

Chekov was perplexed. "What is this _kae_ …whatever it is?"

Spock opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Dr. M'Benga. "Mind-rape."

Spock was surprised. He had accurately translated the crime. "You speak Vulcan?"

M'Benga shrugged. "I specialized in Vulcan medicine, though I don't get a lot of Vulcan patients coming through my doors, so thank you for letting me get some practice in," he finished with a smile, letting me know that he had been jesting.

"My pleasure, Doctor."

The doctor lifted his tunic and inspected his stomach. He pressed down on the area around the wound and Spock was unable to suppress his gasp. The pain had increased. The doctor spoke up suddenly, urgently. "I need to get him to the medical bay. This was dangerously close to your heart, a few more inches up and you would have been killed."

"See!" Gaila exclaimed, angrily pointing her finger in Spock's direction. "I told you it was serious!"

Spock nodded. "That you did. I apologize for not taking your concern seriously."

Scotty spoke before Gaila could get another word in. "We can talk more after you recover. Chekov, Gaila, help him get to the medical bay."

* * *

After the doctor stitched up his wounds, Spock was allowed to take a shower to rid his body of years of dirt and grime from the mines. He had been given a change of clothes, for which he was grateful as he had been wearing the same tunic and pants for years. Spock hurriedly took his shower, even if his human instincts wanted him to savor it. Once he was dressed, Spock looked in the mirror, almost not recognizing his reflection. His hair was long and tangled and he had grown a fairly lengthy beard during his incarceration. He found a brush and ran it through his hair, trying to remove the tangles and make his appearance at least somewhat presentable before tying it back. Spock discovered an unused razor in the cabinet and carefully and slowly shaved the overgrown beard from his face.

Soon, Spock felt more presentable than he had in years and he exited the bathroom, walking gingerly so as not to jostle his still healing wounds. One of the crew members saw him and directed him towards the small mess hall in the center of the ship, where he found Mr. Scott, Gaila and the young Chekov waiting. As soon as Spock entered the room, they greeted him.

"Damn, you certainly look better underneath all that scruff," Gaila said a teasing smile on her face. Spock quirked an eyebrow at her comment. He knew women found him to be physically attractive and had been reminded of it many times by Uhura, but he had not been in the company of a woman in many years. Her sudden declaration had momentarily surprised him.

"Please, have a seat," Scotty told him, ignoring Gaila. Spock nodded and sat in the seat across from him, hands folded on top of the table.

"Let's get that damn collar off," Gaila said with fury in her voice. "I can't stand seeing it on you anymore." She stepped toward Spock with an engineer's kit in her hand and began to work on removing the collar.

Spock nodded and put himself in her apparent capable hands. Soon the collar was off and he was finally able to move his neck around entirely. "Thank you," he told her. "I am eternally grateful."

She blushed. "Oh, it was nothing. You helped me, I helped you."

"You were in Starfleet?" Chekov asked Spock, his thick Russian accent coloring his words, giving his speech an endearing lilt. "I remember hearing about you, the only Vulcan in the fleet. I had always wanted to serve with you aboard the _Enterprise_."

"Thank you," was the only response Spock could think of, surprised by Chekov's admission.

"Would it be too much to ask you your opinion on transwarp beaming?" Chekov asked, becoming excited about the prospect of speaking with the formerly renowned Vulcan scientist, one of the few that Starfleet had during his time in the fleet. "Scotty and I have been arguing over the whether or not it's possible…I say no. But Scotty here says yes."

"I am afraid that I would not be much use, Mr. Chekov," Spock answered, slightly disappointed for feeling overwhelmed by the scientific query. "I have not yet had the time to reacquaint myself with the latest scientific discoveries since my imprisonment."

Chekov suddenly looked embarrassed, having forgotten himself in his excitement. "Right, I am sorry, Mr. Spock. I did not think before speaking."

"It is quite alright," Spock reassured the easily enthused man. He turned his attention to the leader of this group, Scotty. "May we begin where we left off? You were telling me who you are."

"Right," Scotty said, leaning back in his seat. "As I was saying, you are partially correct, we are mercenaries. Many of us, at least the humans here, myself included, were members of Starfleet as well but we were accused of crimes, ranging from petty theft to murder, or anything in between. All of it false."

"It does not appear to be worrisome to the commanding officer in Starfleet to levy false accusations if it serves their personal goals," Spock replied, not in the least bit surprised.

"Yeah, got that right," Scotty replied. "Well, after we were kicked out and what have you, we banded together. Things have gotten a little better post-Nero, but power still corrupts everyone. There are a few of the higher ups who want peace. But they're constantly being overturned by the corrupted; one admiral in particular. He's got a nasty streak in him…corrupted beyond belief. And he's dragged others with him as well. Even got his own mini-fleet to do his bidding, whatever he sees fit, regardless of the consequences. Some say that he's got his eye on becoming Emperor, despite the fact that it's supposed to be a council type ruling. He is a truly corrupted individual to say the least."

"May I ask, sir, what your current mission is?"

Scotty laughed. "Well for now we take odd jobs here and there, whatever we can to make ends meet. There has been a contract issued by those in Starfleet who want their… _problem_ to go away so we're going after him."

"And what is the name of this particular admiral?" Spock asked. "Perhaps I have heard of him."

"Admiral Christopher Pike. Getting a bead on him has been difficult. He's been eluding us for quite a while," Scotty explained.

Spock raised his brows in surprise. "Quite the coincidence, Mr. Scott. It appears that we share a similar goal."


	14. Useful Information

After several months in space, taking on the odd job here and there to earn credits to fund the band of mercenaries, while on their continued search for Admiral Pike, Spock and the ship of mercenaries returned to Earth, san admiral. They had done deliveries, smuggling, and anything else they could to make ends meet. Spock was not particularly pleased with their 'under the table' jobs, as they were referred to as, but he suppressed his concerns. As he was not the leader of this group, he felt it was not his say as to what they were to do or not do. But despite his silence on the issue, the crew was well aware of his dislike of the illegal jobs.

Spock had found friends among the crew, most notable the leader, Mr. Scott, Chekov and especially Gaila. Ever since that fated day on Klingon when he saved her, and she, in turn, helped save him, Spock learned much about the crew and where they had come from. As Scott had mentioned on his first day aboard the ship, many were originally officers in Starfleet, but had quickly become disillusioned when the promised change the capture of Emperor Nero did not come. Everything was still the same.

As the ship touched ground, Spock looked out a viewport window to his left, watching the dust fly up. They had landed in Iowa, near the abandoned shipyard where the _Enterprise_ had been built all those years ago. This was a routine stop for fuel and restocking of foodstuffs and other items needed on long space journeys. They were also to take on several delivery jobs to perform while continuing their search for Pike. Legitimate jobs Spock was reassured.

This was the first time Spock had been back on Earth since his time in prison. It was a surreal experience. He almost couldn't believe that he was really here, on this planet that held so many memories, most of which had been good. He could easily step off this ship, take a transport shuttle to San Francisco and learn of his Nyota's location. And they could be together again. But he could also just as easily learn of Kirk's fate…as well as the others who had sent him away in the first place. He could have his revenge. He was torn.

The cargo bay doors opened and Spock watched from the rafters as the crew happily filed off, glad to be on land. He hesitated. Should he leave? There was so much he needed to learn, things from his previous life that the members of this crew could not possibly know. But he had found friends among the people here. Did he really want to leave them behind? And staying with them could one day lead him to where he wanted to be, where Kirk and Pike were. Would leaving speed up the search? Or would be avoiding a confrontation?

Spock heard footsteps behind him. He turned to the sound to find Scotty. "Mr. Scott," he greeted.

He nodded in return and together they watched the crew disembark. At the bottom of the cargo bay stood young Chekov and Gaila, laughing at a joke between them. "You aren't going?" Scotty asked.

Spock faltered, his eyes on the last of the crew leaving the ship, save for Gaila and Chekov. "I am unsure," he spoke truthfully.

"You can't fix what happened to you if you stay here," Scotty told him, leaning against the railing, looking at him. "But it's up to you."

Spock nodded. "You are correct."

"You never know," Scotty continued, "You could find Pike better than we can."

"That is a small possibility," Spock replied. He looked beyond the cargo bay doors, to the buildings and the streets and the people in the distance, his hand moving to the King chess piece he still held onto after all these years in his shirt pocket. He held the chess piece up, examining it. It was a painful reminder of good times before his life had been taken away as well as the promise he had made to himself. He needed to learn the fates of the people who had been in his life. He needed to try and get back what he could.

"A man once told me that we are nothing but kings and pawns," Spock said with his eyes on the chess piece, twirling it in his hand, recalling the words spoken to him by Nero all those years ago. He had finally realized what those words meant and it was now his turn to make his move. He had been deceived by people he knew and had spent the last thirteen years in prison because of it. Now, it would be his turn to checkmate.

Scotty laughed, running his hand on the back of his neck. "Wow, that's not something I would have expected from you, Mr. Spock. Who told you that?"

Spock made eye contact with him and spoke plainly. "Emperor Nero."

His answer only caused Scotty to laugh harder. "Oh, Mr. Spock, you are something."

Spock lifted an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant by his being 'something,' but he had learned several months ago to leave Scotty's unusual way of speaking alone. Spock turned towards him and held out a hand. "I must thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Scott."

He looked at the hand and back at the Vulcan's face as though he had grown a third head. Spock knew he had surprised him by offering a hand as Vulcans generally did not like to be touched, but he continued, waiting for Scotty to take it. Scotty suddenly laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug, his other hand slapping the Vulcan's back. Spock immediately tensed as this was more than he had intended when he offered his hand, but he did not pull away, having already mentally raised his emotional shields. However, he was thankful when Scotty quickly pulled away. "If I am able to locate the admiral, I will send word out for you."

"And I'll do the same," Scotty told him. "Can't let you miss your opportunity to get what's yours. Just remember, if you ever get tired of being out there, you'll always have a place here with us."

"Thank you." Spock gave him one final nod before turning and walking down the ladder from the rafters. Once he reached the bottom he was faced with Gaila, who had her belongings hoisted behind her shoulder, and Chekov, who held Spock's bag in his hand. They must have heard Scotty and him discussing whether or not to leave.

"I'm going with you," Gaila said, her voice determined, her eyes drilling into Spock's own in a way that he knew meant she was not going to take 'no' for an answer. Spock opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. "No. I am going with you," she repeated, enunciating the words carefully.

Spock stared at her for a few moments, hoping to silently make her change her mind but she returned the look. After a moment, he tore his gaze from hers and acquiesced, sighing. "Very well."

"Good," she said with a smile. "Besides, you need someone to watch out for you."

Spock knew better than to protest her remark. She had been commenting as such ever since he joined the crew, stating his downplaying of his wound when they met as proof of that.

Chekov held Spock's bag out for him, a sad smile on his face. "We will miss you," he told him. "But you go do what you need to do. And one day we will see you again."

"Yes, Mr. Chekov. Perhaps sooner than not," Spock replied, accepting the bag and hoisting it behind his shoulder. He nodded to the young man and began his descent from the cargo bay, with Gaila behind him.

Once they had reached land, they headed toward the small town, to where the transport shuttle would be. They needed to head towards San Francisco as that was the last place on Earth Spock had been and where he spent most of his life, as well as being the location of Starfleet headquarters.

As Spock scanned the town in an effort to learn the location of the shuttles, Gaila touched his arm, halting him in his step. He turned to her. "Yes?"

Her hand briefly touched his hair, which had been cut shorter than it had been after his escape but still longer than he used to wear it. It was longer on top than the sides and back and the top length was long enough to cover the top of his ears, effectively hiding his Vulcan ears from view and the front fell down in front of his forehead, the thick hair obscuring his slanted brows as well. "Don't you want to cut your hair first? In the traditional Vulcan style, so you look more like you used to, so people can recognize you?" Her hand drifted to his chin briefly before falling to her side. "And you could shave this stubble, which while it makes you look insanely gorgeous, it doesn't really go with the ears."

Spock had quickly grown used to Gaila's overtly sexual comments; she was Orion after all. It was in her blood. He had also grown used to her frequent touching, despite it not being something he was accustomed to. But as her species saw sexuality not as taboo but as something to fully embrace, it was to be expected and Spock always made sure his mental shields were up while in her presence so he would not glean more information from her than he wanted.

Spock shook his head in response to her query. "No, I wish to remain as inconspicuous as possible. At least until I am able to ascertain the exact details of everyone I knew. I will reveal myself when I am ready."

"Okay," she agreed.

They found their way to the transport shuttles and boarded the one heading to San Francisco. In a matter of hours, he would finally step foot in the city that held so many memories.

* * *

As they departed from the shuttle in San Francisco, Spock halted, taking in the sight before him. Judging from appearance alone, it seemed to be the same, and yet it felt as though a lot had changed. Gaila came to stand next to him, ignoring the crowd that rushed past them and looked at him, concerned.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

"I must admit that I am anxious," he told her. And he was. It was an unusual feeling standing here after all these years. Everything was new and yet not. He walked ahead, towards where he knew Starfleet headquarters was located, assuming that it was still there.

She nodded, falling into step beside him. "I'll bet," she replied. She scanned the crowd, many of the people beginning to stare at the two of them. "Quick. Give me your bag," she whispered, beginning to slow down so she would behind him. Puzzled, Spock turned to her. She caught his confusion and continued. "Given the way things are, maybe it would be best to pretend that I'm your slave or something."

"No," Spock protested. While he was aware that females of her species were often sold into slavery, he did not wish to put Gaila in that position. "That is not necessary."

"I appreciate the concern," she replied. "But really, we have to. They're already staring at us. You look pretty human right now, but I stand out like a green thumb….pun intended."

He paused. She did have a point, the crowd was beginning to stare at them and yes, given that hostilities towards aliens had not changed over the years, it was best to assume false identities. "Very well," He acquiesced, tossing her his bag.

Spock watched her grab it and pull it over her other shoulder. She then lowered her gaze, as though she was being subordinate and urged him forward. "Come on, let's go."

He nodded and led the two of them further in to the city, Gaila trailing behind. He became aware that the onlookers had ceased gawking and resumed their paths. They continued walking until they reached the edge of the Starfleet headquarters campus. He should still be near here. Or at least Spock hoped he was.

Spock turned to Gaila and relieved her of his luggage. "I must do this next part alone. Perhaps you should try and locate us a small shuttlecraft. We may need it." He quickly turned back around and continued on his path.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Gaila ask behind him, indignation in her voice.

"You are a resourceful woman," Spock told her, not looking back. "I am sure you will find a way."

She scoffed. "Fine," she called out. "I guess I can go crank up the pheromones."

"Whatever you feel is necessary."

"You know that whole slave thing was a ruse, right? I didn't mean it."

Spock turned to face her at those words for she sounded upset. "I am aware of that, Gaila, but I really must insist. Just this once. Please."

She stared at him for a few seconds before relenting. "Fine, but you owe me."

"I expect nothing else," he replied. "I will meet back with you shortly." He turned back around and continued his journey, hearing Gaila's footsteps moving away in the opposite direction.

* * *

After Spock separated from Gaila, he asked around town for the location for his former mentor, Admiral Barnett, and learned that he still resided in the same apartment he did all those years ago. Spock had visited his home many times during his time in Starfleet as Barnett had proven to be a useful and helpful friend. If anyone could help him locate Nyota it would be him. Or so Spock hoped.

Spock stood in front of Admiral Barnett's door, an uneasy feeling overwhelming him. There was a chance that the information would not be want he wanted to hear. But he needed to find out all the same, so it was a double-edged sword. He reached out and pressed the comm button.

A few seconds later, the door slid open and a young girl answered. Spock stared at her, momentarily surprised having not expected to find a child. She appeared to be thirteen Earth years in age, fourteen at most, yet she had an air of maturity one would not typically find in a girl her age. She had a dark complexion, though not as dark as Uhura, and long black hair that curled around her shoulders. She held herself tall and with confidence. "May I help you?" she asked.

Spock connected his eyes with hers. She had the most unusual expression. She was a beautiful girl, gifted with strong genes from her parents, and there was something oddly familiar to her, but Spock could not ascertain why that would be as he had never met this girl and yet...

He shook his head, realizing that he was attempted to connect with a girl whom he had no connection to. Noticing that she was staring at him, with an elegantly arched eyebrow, he answered her, not wishing to make her nervous. "Is this the residence of Richard Barnett?"

"He's my uncle." She nodded. "But he's working on something and he told me not to interrupt him."

"Perhaps he would make an exception for someone who is seeking a man called Spock," Spock told her.

She looked at him for a second, her brow furrowed almost as though she had heard the name before and could not immediately recall where before nodding and letting him inside. "I will go let him know. Please wait here."

"Thank you," Spock replied and watched her leave the room, still unable to shake the feeling that he should know her. A moment later the Admiral arrived, a warm smile on his face. He appeared much older than the last time Spock had seen him, his hair had thinned and was graying at the side and he had put on extra weight, but he appeared healthy.

"Hello," he greeted, holding out his hand. Spock faltered for a split second before taking his hand in return, gripping firmly and returning the shake.

"Admiral," Spock replied.

He shook his head, almost regretfully. "No, I'm not an admiral anymore. I don't know where you got your information, but I haven't been an admiral for a very long time."

Spock was surprised. It was just one of the many changes that had occurred during his time in the prison. "My apologies, sir."

"It's okay," he replied before turning and pointing towards the sofa in the living area, beckoning Spock to enter. "Now, I'm told you're looking for Spock?"

"Yes, sir." He followed him and sat down. Barnett took a seat across from him a chair. Spock looked at the man, hoping that recognition would eventually show on his aged face. He brushed his hair away from his face and folded his hands in his lap in an attempt to resemble the way he used to carry himself.

"Well?" he asked. "What do you want to know?"

He did not recognize him.

Spock had not been expecting that. It was disconcerting to say the least. He leaned back in the chair; if there was no recognition, then there was no need attempting to find it. Either his appearance was too different, with his hair and stubble, or the years had faded the admiral's memory of him. Spock instead decided it would be best if he pretended he was just a man looking for Spock. "You knew Spock as well?"

"Yes," he replied with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I recruited him into Starfleet and set myself to be his mentor of sorts. I thought I would be able to use my influence to keep the suits from dismissing him because of his Vulcan heritage."

"For what it is worth, he appreciated your confidence in him," Spock told him. And it was true. Admiral Barnett had oftentimes been an ally for him where he had no other.

Barnett scoffed. "Yeah, whole lot of good it did him, too," he said, his tone self-deprecating.

Spock was unsure of how to respond to Barnett's comment, so he changed the subject and back to his goal of learning information. "Do you know where I can locate his family? His father perhaps?"

He shook his head sadly. "I regret to say that his father, Sarek, was killed by unknown assailants; though I suspect they were sent after him to prevent him from learning the truth surrounding his son's arrest for treason, among other charges."

The first feeling to come upon hearing the news of his father was shock. Spock had not expected that. He took a few seconds to assimilate this information before continuing. "I understand," he replied, slowly. "And Spock's arrest – who accused him?"

Barnett shrugged, shaking his head. "Who knows. The man who had him arrested, Admiral Pike, is now well on his way to becoming the leader of Starfleet and potentially Emperor, if he has his way. He's been working on gathering support to help boost him up. He's a bit extreme, a bit more xenophobic than I'd like. There's still a portion of those in Command that wish to move past the Empire and make good on the promise they had made, but have thus far have been thwarted by Pike and his followers."

Spock was not surprised as the Ambassador had helped him to see this. Power had a way of seducing even the most levelheaded person in this world. "And you, sir? You mentioned not being an Admiral anymore."

"Pike was the one who petitioned Command to remove me from my post, stating that my 'Vulcan sympathies' were misplaced. I had been adamant that they had falsely imprisoned Spock. Since he had managed to persuade a majority of Command to his side, I was promptly discharged from service." Barnett sighed deeply. "But my fate was nothing compared to Spock's."

Things had changed quite a bit. This was information that Spock had not been expecting, but perhaps he could use it to his advantage and help Barnett reclaim his rightful position as Admiral. "Perhaps things will change for the better," he said, uttering the human phrase he had previously found meaningless. "And Spock's assistant? I knew that she and Spock were…friends," he hesitated describing their relationship. 'Friends' was too vague a word but he did not wish to alarm Barnett. "I had hoped to find and speak to her, but I have been unable to locate her."

"You mean, Commander Uhura?" Barnett asked.

"Commander?" Spock knew it was foolish and illogical to believe that she would still be a cadet, but that was his last image of her, professionally. It was difficult to accept that he had missed so much but it had been thirteen years; surely she had graduated from the academy in that time and progressed through the ranks.

Barnett nodded. "Yes, after taking time off after Spock's imprisonment, she returned to Starfleet and graduated top of her class. She's currently serving aboard the _Enterprise_ as first officer and lead communications officer under command of one of Spock's long-time friends."

"James Kirk?" Spock asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"Yes," he affirmed. "Uhura used to visit quite me often as we kind of bonded over the loss of Spock, but ever since her posting on the _Enterprise_ three years ago, I haven't heard from her. I must say I am tremendously disappointed to say that Captain Kirk and his crew have aligned with Admiral Pike and they now serve as his flagship to do his bidding." He shook his head in disgust. "I would never have thought that two of the most important people in Spock's life would turn on him like this. I hope to God it's a scam."

As did Spock. Barnett's news was shocking to say the least. And certainly was the last thing he expected hear. At least of Nyota. Why would she do this? Why would she betray him in such a way, after everything they had shared together? He could not believe that their entire relationship was a farce. There had to be something else at play here. There had to be.

"Are you okay?" Barnett's concerned voice broke through Spocks' reverie.

Spock looked at him, and nodded. "Yes." He stood suddenly, the urge to leave taking over. There was nothing else he needed to hear, nothing else he wanted to hear. "I apologize, sir, but I must be going now."

"Of course," Barnett replied, standing to escort him to the door. "I'm sorry I was not more helpful."

Spock shook his head. "No, you told me everything I needed to know." He paused just outside the door and turned back to look Barnett in the eye and declared, "Spock is dead."

"Wait," Barnett called out. Spock halted and waited for Barnett to continue. "Who are you?"

Spock thought for a second before replying. "Call me Selek." And without looking back, he left.

Spock hurriedly rushed to where he had departed from Gaila, near Starfleet Headquarters, lost in thought. Everything was so different. He had not expected this news. He was so deep in thought he barely noticed that Gaila was waiting for him, apparently quite pleased with herself. When she saw Spock approach, she rushed towards him, cheerfully exclaiming, "I got it! I got us a ship!"

Spock walked past her but she was quick on his heels. "It's a small ship, but it's space-worthy, even has a small warp engine. And the best part? I didn't even have to sleep with him!"

Spock didn't look back, his mind too focused on devising a plan to exact his revenge.

"Spock!"


	15. Becoming Selek, Weapons Dealer

Gaila and Spock took the small ship she had procured through means he had yet to ask about. While he knew that he was the one who requested she do so, he didn't wish to know how exactly it happened, particularly if it was through illegal means. It was a small ship as she had said, consisting of the cabin and sleeping area and not much else, but it did have a warp engine capable of reaching Warp Factor 2.25, a rarity in a ship of its size. However Gaila and he tweaked the engines, and they managed to make reach Warp Factor 3, which was able to cut down their travel time by a day's journey.

Spock manned the navigation control and led them in the direction where the Ambassador had abandoned his ship while Gaila watched over the communication channels and computer systems. "How do you know where we're going?" Gaila asked him, curiosity in her voice.

He laid in the course and went to maximum warp before responding. "It is difficult to explain but it is in my memories."

"You mean the mind meld you shared with the Ambassador?" Spock had told her more details about his time in prison and of the Ambassador. Their friendship had grown throughout the past several months they had spent together as part of Scotty's crew and once Spock accepted that he was a free man and that they were not coming after him, he felt more at liberty to tell someone of his time in prison. Or at least portions of it. Doing so also allowed him to learn more about Gaila. It turned out that she was quite knowledgeable of Vulcan culture and beliefs.

"Yes." He replied simply.

The majority of their journey was quiet, with the two of them working together in silence unless the need to speak arose. Occasionally Spock would adjust the flight plan as needed working solely from the memories of the Ambassador. While the other stood watch, they would take breaks every once in a while for nourishment and rest. In four days, they reached their destination, the moon where the red matter and the ship that housed it had been abandoned, and approximately 68.45 light-years from Earth. It was approximately a day's journey from the Halkan system at warp six, a race that was well-known for its peaceful deposition.

Spock was unsure of what this research facility that now housed the red matter was originally designed for, but he did not feel the need to dwell on it. It could potentially be used as base for them; a place where he could carry out his plans. Spock knew that had his father been alive, he would have done everything he could to persuade his son to abandon his thoughts of revenge, but Spock found that he could not. It was not logical, as pursuing this did not change a thing, what was done was done, but the betrayal had eaten away at him all these years. He had to take back his life.

Spock navigated to a soft landing inside the facility's landing bay and powered down the ship. Gaila and he gathered their belongings and exited. Right away they noticed the bay's other occupant; the Ambassador's ship. Slim and tall, the ship was approximately 54.25 meters long and the front portion of the ship appeared to be capable of spinning around the cockpit area. It was a very unusual looking ship, not resembling anything neither of them had ever seen.

"It kind of looks like an eggbeater," Gaila said to the side of him.

Her simile influence Spock's vision of the ship and he was unable to not see it. "I agree," he said reluctantly after a moment. He had been admiring the quality craftsmanship that had gone into the creation of such a ship but now he could only see what Gaila saw. "This is the ship that the Ambassador took here. We should find the 'red matter' inside."

"Let's go," she replied and began to walk towards the entrance. Spock followed closely behind.

As they approached, the doors opened of their own volition. Perhaps there was some sort of motion sensor that told the computer system to do so, but no matter the means, they slowly entered the ship, prepared for the worst. But their worry was for naught as the ship was empty. It was astonishingly advanced. Bright lights, complicated consoles, way more than Spock had been expecting.

"Holy crap!" Gaila exclaimed as she studied the superior interior of the ship. "It's amazing."

"The design of this ship is far more advanced than I was anticipating," Spock replied, sharing her assessment of the ship. It truly was remarkable.

"Voice print and facial recognition analysis verified," the onboard computer chimed, surprising both Spock and Gaila. "Welcome back Ambassador Spock."

Spock furrowed his brows in confusion, taken aback by the ship's recognition. "Computer," he said, lifting his head unconsciously towards the ceiling. "What is your manufacturing origin?"

"Stardate 2387," the system replied. Spock's mind did the calculation within seconds. That was a one hundred and twenty-nine years from the current date, 2258.

He raised an eyebrow, as did Gaila. "Guess the Ambassador wasn't lying about being from the future," she reacted.

"It appears not."

They familiarized themselves with the ship's functions and systems before Spock located the red matter the Ambassador had spoken of. It was housed in a chamber that had been specifically designed for it. It was quite unusual, the large red globe suspended inside a sort of stasis unit. He circled around, studying it; he had to admit he was in awe that something like this could cause a black hole.

Spock went to the computer system, pulling the files on the red matter. If he wanted to attempt to use it to his advantage, he would need to know everything he could about it. The more he read about it, the more Spock became aware of the dangers surrounding it and the urgency the Ambassador had about keeping it safe. If it truly could create a black hole with even a small amount of matter, then if it was improperly used, who knew how far and widespread the damage would be.

Gaila entered the room and gave a gasp of surprise, noticing the red matter. "Oh, wow, is this it?" she asked.

"Yes. Do not touch it," he replied, turning around to find her jerking back, hands in the air. "It is highly unstable. From what I have read, it requires very little to become ignited before a black hole large enough to consume a supernova is created."

Gaila's mouth dropped in shock. "Oh," she whispered. "Right. Hands off."

Spock nodded. She came up beside him and looked at the computer screen, taking in the information he had just read. Spock watched the expressions shift unfiltered on her face. She was shocked by the power the substance had and the potential damage it could do. He had to agree with her. It was quite daunting but he had been entrusted to protect it.

"Who created it?" Gaila asked, looking to him. She knew that he had read all the information faster than she could and had memorized it as well, a skill he obtained through my Vulcan heritage.

"It was devised by the best scientists Vulcan had to offer…or will have…" He faltered at the time discrepancy.

"Vulcans designed it?" She exclaimed, shocked. "I thought you guys were all peace-loving and all that."

Spock nodded shortly. "It is not intended to be a weapon. It was a scientific creation devised for the purpose of helping a race of people. But like many man-made creations, if in the wrong hands, the purpose can easily be tainted."

She nodded, taking in the information, her gaze sweeping around the small chamber. "With this thing, you are now the most powerful man in the universe." She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him, tilting her head. "What are you going to so with it?"

"I have discussed this with you before. I intend to use it to help facilitate my revenge on Kirk, Pike, Sulu, Pike…and perhaps even Nyota." Spock said the last name with regret. He never had intentions to hurt her, instead wanting to reconnect with her, perhaps as they had been, but Barnett's information that she had joined Kirk as his first officer seemed to state that she had been manipulating him. But there was still a large part of him that refused to believe it; he had seen into her mind many times. Against all logic and everything he had been taught Spock ihoped /ithat she had been coerced into her current situation.

Spock noticed Gaila's eyes widen and she rushed to him, wrapping her hands around his upper arms and forcing him to face her. Spock glanced down at her hands, thankful that his clothing prevented any accidental mental connection, before looking at her face, which was currently displaying fear. "No!" She exclaimed. "Don't you dare use this thing in your stupid revenge!"

"Gaila, I do not intend to use the red matter to implode a planet, or cause any harm to the innocent," he reassured her.

His words calmed her slightly but he could see that she was still agitated. She dropped her hands and looked at him, warily. "Then what are you going to do? Kill them?"

"I had not intended to do so. We will study them, learning their weaknesses." I told her, ignoring her gaze. "Once we have ascertained that, we will use their weaknesses against them and take away their life, everything they worked for, as they had taken away mine."

She sighed, resigned. "Okay, I'll help you. I don't like it, but I'll help you. But, if you're going to do that, you'll need a cover story. And I suppose a new identity if you don't want them to realize who you are."

Spock nodded. "You are correct. As Admiral Pike is going to need a powerful weapon capable of eliciting fear from those he wishes to rule over, I shall become Selek, weapons dealer."

* * *

Spock had shared with Gaila his idea to use the abandoned facility on the moon their headquarters, a place where they could work, and she had agreed, believing that it would be safer to leave the red matter in one location rather than transporting it elsewhere. They prepared the facility to look as though it was a weapons factory. This would be the place where Spock showcased his weapons for the highest bidder so it had to be immaculate and occupied. They recruited merchants and craftsmen as well entertainers such as dancers, and a variety of other people to populate the facility in an effort to make it more livable and more believable. Anything they could do, they did.

It took several months to prepare the facility and when they were finally ready, when the last person was in place and the last decoration was fixed, Gaila sent a weakly encrypted message to Admiral Pike's ship, the ISS _Phaereon_ , and his flagship, the _Enterprise_ , captained by James Kirk. The goal was to entice them to visit and witness the new weapon in the hopes that they would want to purchase it.

It took several days but finally they received word from Admiral Pike. He was on the way, eager to observe the weapon.

After reading the Admiral's enthusiastic message, Spock looked to Gaila. "Please send a message to Mr. Scott. Tell him the Admiral is en route to our location. It is time."

* * *

Admiral Pike arrived in his ship five days after their initial communication. Spock stayed behind in his quarters, which consisted of several security feeds so that he could monitor the facility, while Gaila greeted him. Spock hoped to draw out the Admiral's curiosity of him as long as he could. He knew that Pike would be wondering who he was and what he had to offer as he was not a 'known' dealer.

As Gaila led the admiral around the facility, Spock watched the security feeds, studying him. She had decided that under the circumstances but despite Spock's protests, she would dress as a typical Orion slave, in an effort to lull the admiral into a state of arousal and security. Spock failed to see the purpose but she informed him that she would be able to learn more information from him. Spock still did not understand her reasoning, but as he did not wish to argue with her, he allowed her to do as she saw fit. But she was apparently correct in that his enamored state caused the admiral to be quite talkative but as the feeds lacked an audio function, Spock could not listen to the conversation, only observe.

As the hours went by, Spock watched and waited. Where was Kirk? He had assumed that since Pike had responded to the invitation, Kirk would not be far behind. Eventually, when Spock noticed that the Admiral seemed to be becoming drowsy he decided that in an attempt to keep Pike's interest from waning, he would introduce himself. Gathering his jacket, Spock left his quarters and towards where Gaila had taken him.

When Spock entered the room, Gaila turned towards him, with something akin to relief on her face. He nodded briefly to her before turning to the Admiral.

"Is this him?" Pike asked Gaila.

The mask slipped back onto her face when she turned back to him, a large brilliant smile on her face. "Yes, Admiral," she said, draping her arms across his shoulders. "Allow me to introduce you to Selek, weapons extraordinaire."

Spock bowed his head towards the Admiral as a sign of respect, even if he did not feel it. It was quite an unusual feeling to be standing before the man who had sent him to the prison that robbed so many years of his life. It took everything in him not to reach out and have his revenge there and now, but it was not who he was. "Admiral," Spock spoke. "It is an honor. I have heard much about you."

Pike laughed. "Of course you have," he said jovially, egoistically. "But I can't say the same about you." It was a comment on Spock's lack of reputation, he knew, but he let it slide over him.

"I prefer to work alone, quietly," Spock said by way of an explanation. "And as such, my name is not well known."

Pike regarded him and Spock knew that he was analyzing his words to judge the truth of them. He kept his gaze on the admiral's, not wanting him to doubt his words. After a moment, he relaxed and smiled. "Completely understandable. Now," he clapped his hands together. "When is the demonstration?"

"In a few days as I must finish preparing the weapon, but until then, perhaps you and your crew would like to take part in what I have to offer. You are more than welcome to stay here over night if you wish."

Pike nodded. "That would be nice. Maybe even with one of your slave girls," he said, commenting on the women of many races who now made this place home, even if temporary. Spock inwardly cringed but outwardly nodded in acceptance; many of them were in fact prostitutes and he had invited them for the purpose of entertaining the admiral's crew, but Spock still detested the action.

"Whatever the Admiral wishes," Spock replied and nodded to one of the women in question. "Please make sure the Admiral is comfortable." He returned his attention back to Pike. "Now, if you excuse me, I must take my leave."

Pike nodded and Spock turned to leave, signaling to Gaila that she should follow him. When they were alone, he turned to her. "Where is Kirk? You did send the Enterprise the message, did you not?"

"Hey," she said, her tone signaling that she was not pleased with his accusatory tone. "You know I did. According to Pike, he's on a short mission and will be arriving here in about a day from now."

"Very well."

Soon, it would be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All travel times, warp speeds and distances completely made up ;) I tried to locate information on warp speeds but it changes so much even in _Star Trek_ canon that I figured it didn't make much difference. XD
> 
> And the length of the Jellyfish was found on the _Star Trek_ Wiki page :)


	16. Kirk, Uhura and the Good Doctor

As Captain Kirk attempted to intimidate the leader of the Halkan people, Uhura stood by his side, wishing she could be anywhere else. She was there primarily as translator, otherwise she would have been on the bridge, at the conn, awaiting the Captain's return. They were on this planet, one of the most peaceful societies in the sector, to obtain dilithium to fuel the Fleet's ships. The Halkan planet had an abundance of the natural resource and Kirk wanted it. Or rather, they were ordered to obtain it through any means necessary by Admiral Pike. Uhura didn't know why they have to coerce it out of these people when the Admiral had access to one of the most prolific mines in this Empire, the prison mining colony of Rura Penthe, but orders were orders. Once they were finished here, they were to rendezvous with Admiral Pike at a remote moon for a meeting with a potential weapons seller, a thought that made her cringe inside.

After Spock had been arrested and Uhura was subsequently informed of his execution - her heart still ached if she dwelled on it - she left Starfleet. She ran, so desperately heartbroken that this institution that they had believed in so completely and that was supposed to change everything had betrayed them. Uhura ran and ran with no sense of direction. She had just needed to get away from San Francisco and everything else that reminded her of Spock – but she could never truly escape him, not with him so deeply engrained within and around her. After many months on the run, Kirk finally tracked her down in a run down town in the middle of nowhere on Earth. With much persuasion, he convinced her to rejoin Starfleet, that it was still a place of hope, and that they could one day find justice for what was done to Spock.

Uhura eventually agreed; she was so tired of running. She rejoined the Academy and flew through her remaining classes, graduating at the top of her class. Spock would have been proud; he had told her many times that she was the best student he ever had. Kirk had been serving aboard the _Enterprise_ and was made Captain three years ago after Captain Sulu was declared missing; Starfleet was vague on the details surrounding Sulu's disappearance but Uhura believed that he had been killed somehow. Once he settled into his new captaincy, Kirk took her to be his chief communications officer and, a little over a year ago, promoted her to first officer, even though she had felt unprepared for such a task. Spock was still first officer of the _Enterprise_ in her mind. How could she ever hope to perform the job as well as he could?

Once she was in the 'real world,' so to speak, it became clear that it was all a lie. Starfleet wasn't any better than it had been when she left. It wasn't a place of hope; it was a place of despair.

Kirk was not the same man she had known in her Academy years, when he was Spock's friend. He had changed. Gone was the flirty but annoyingly adorable man who had approached her in that bar in Iowa. He had lulled her into a false sense of hope when he convinced her to come back to the fleet. He had been replaced with a cruel, relentless bastard. His actions towards her and everyone else had made her grow to despise him.

Uhura wanted out. But every time she tried to leave Starfleet, Kirk would hold Spock over her head, threatening to tell Command that their secrets. Part of her wanted him to just go ahead and tell everyone, she wasn't ashamed of it; she had no reason to be. But then she would remember that wasn't what Spock would have wanted; he sacrificed himself to save her. She could not let that have been in vain. Someday she would be able to clear his name.

As she translated Kirk's demands for the dilithium to the Halkans, Uhura inwardly cringed. They were stalwart in their refusal. They didn't want their resources to be used to fuel violence. While she admired the Halkan's courage to stand up against the Fleet, she knew that no good would come from it either.

Kirk merely laughed at their leader's resolute stance. "Okay, fine," he said, smirking. "I have to say, your determination is quite refreshing. It's nice to come across people every once in a while that put up a bit of a fight. Too bad it won't last."

Uhura translated, tossing in her own words of warning. She didn't want to see them get hurt. But they ignored her, standing their ground.

Sneering, the Captain pulled out his communications device and called Dr. McCoy. "Hey, Bones," he spoke into it. "You've been dying to test out your latest creation?"

Uhura heard chuckling in response. "Aren't I always?"

Doctor Leonard McCoy; the man who claimed that he had physical proof that her mind had been warped by Spock, the man who, under his watch as well as orders from Starfleet, subjected her to a battery of psychological tests to prove that she had not been compromised by what they claimed Spock had done to her. As much as she detested Kirk, she hated McCoy more. He was twisted and as much as he played nice to the crew, she knew his real passion laid in the creation of his biological weapons. All in the supposed name of science. She feared what he was going to use on the Halkans.

Smiling sinisterly, Kirk told the doctor to prepare his 'creation' for immediate deployment on the Halkans' homeworld. After McCoy acknowledged the captain's request, Kirk summoned the transporter room to be on standby, awaiting his orders. Whatever McCoy had up his sleeve, apparently required that they leave immediately.

The Halkans were going to die.

Uhura's eyes widened in protest as the realization settled in. Kirk waved to the Halkans, who watched in confusion, not understanding his gesture, and lifted his communication device once more, ordering the transporter operator to begin transport. As Uhura looked at the Halkans in desperation, feeling the pain at their incoming demise, she was surrounded in a sea of yellow as her molecules were ripped apart and reassembled back on the _Enterprise_.

Kirk wasted no time hurrying to the bridge and Uhura rushed behind his longer stride, struggling to keep up. Once they reached the bridge, Kirk ordered the science officer to keep an eye out for the life signs of the Halkans. He wanted to be sure when his job was done. He sat in the captain's chair while Uhura returned to the communications station, keeping her back turned from the view screen. She didn't need to see it to know what was going to happen.

"Bridge to Dr. McCoy," Kirk said, pressing his intercom button on the arm of the chair.

"McCoy here."

"Anytime you're ready to fire the blast, go ahead," Kirk replied.

"Copy that," McCoy responded, the glee apparent in his voice.

Shortly after that Uhura heard the blast go off and it descend to the Halkans' capital city. A few minutes later, the science officer confirmed to the captain that all citizens of the city were dead.

Uhura's heart clenched and her breathing hitched. "Captain," she said before she was able to stop herself. "Permission to leave the bridge?"

Uhura glanced at Kirk, feeling his eyes boring into hers, studying her. A moment later, "Fine, Commander."

As Uhura was leaving the bridge, Kirk informed the crew that they would be back to collect the dilithium once the poison has dissipated from the air. He then ordered the helm to plot in the course to the rendezvous point with Pike.

* * *

Later that night, Uhura wandered to the Captain's ready room, wanting to confront him about his actions. It was fruitless and useless – nothing would change – but she could not let such actions go by without voicing her disagreement. It was the least she could do. As she steeled herself for the argument they were most likely to have, Uhura paced the hallway in front of Kirk's ready room, feeling uneasy and nervous. She had been here many times and the room did not hold pleasant memories for her. Nothing on this ship did.

She took several deep breaths before raising her hand and pressed the keypad, asking for permission to enter. She heard Kirk's authorization and the door unlocked, sliding open. She crossed the threshold cautiously and peered into the room, taking note of the room's occupants. Kirk rolled his eyes at her presence, and sighed heavily. This wasn't the first time she had been here, protesting his actions.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" A southern drawl came from behind her. Dr. McCoy was here; a fact that made Uhura's skin crawl.

"Dr. McCoy," she replied as politely as she could allow herself. McCoy stepped around her, staring down at her. As he moved back toward Kirk's desk, the Captain stood and walked to her, hands on his hips, waiting for her to speak while his eyes raked over her body with lust.

Uhura glared at the two men, who made no effort to hide their obvious appreciation of her beauty. She hated the mandatory uniform design Starfleet had recently adopted as it invited men to ogle the female officers without using much imagination. Female officers' uniforms always had short skirts, but this particular style featured a skirt could not get any shorter if it tried, stopping just below the curve of her buttocks. The red uniform bared her midriff, which was wrapped in a golden belt, and the top portion bore no sleeves and had a neckline that was far lower than Uhura felt was professional. Even though she had more than her fair share of men's gazes upon her in years past, Uhura had become uneasy with the appreciative looks lately and while she knew that no one would dare touch her – being the first officer did have some perks – she kept a dagger safely nestled in the top of her thigh high heeled boots.

Attempting to ignore Kirk and McCoy's intense gazes, she spoke. "You didn't have to kill them."

Her words brought the two men out of their trance and they scoffed, laughing. "Sure I did, Edith," Kirk replied.

She rolled her eyes at the name he had 'chosen' for her. Kirk still insisted on playing that stupid game, trying to figure out her first name, even after all these years. She had never told him. She had never told anyone. The only person who knew it in Starfleet was Spock.

Kirk stepped toward her. "If I didn't, how else were we going to complete the mission and get the dilithium?"

"There are other dilithium mines in the sector!" Uhura exclaimed. "You didn't have to kill _them_!"

McCoy sniggered behind the two of them, eagerly watching the action taking place before him. "Sure, I did, missy," he said, "How else are we gonna know if the stuff's effective?"

Uhura scoffed and whirled to face the doctor, an incredulous expression on her face. "Those were _people_ down there! They were not one of your twisted lab experiments! They had lives, friends, family, and who knows what they could have accomplished had we not wiped them out!"

McCoy scrunched up his face in disgust. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me. It's survival of the fittest, sweetie, and clearly they weren't the fittest," he retaliated with a smirk.

As she made a move to McCoy, Kirk chuckled and placed his hands on her waist from behind, halting her progress. He brought his lips close to her ear. As his breath swept over her, Uhura suppressed a shudder. "Have I told you recently how fucking gorgeous you are when you're angry?" he asked.

"Ugh!" Uhura groaned before shoving him away from her.

Undeterred, Kirk, along with McCoy, laughed at her actions. Kirk stepped around her, stopping right in front of her. "The Halkans made the fatal mistake of saying 'no.' No one says 'no' to me," he whispered harshly, bringing his hand up to touch her hair. Despite her body's protests to move away from him, Uhura stood her ground. "I would have thought you would have realized that by now."

Uhura brought her eyes up to meet his defiantly. She was not going to let him get her down. "Touch me again, and I _will_ cut you," she warned, keeping her hand near her dagger. Ignoring Kirk's chuckle, she continued. "You're a bastard. They didn't need to die," she reiterated, her voice quiet, harsh and insistent.

Kirk sneered at her and tilted his head, considering her. "I'm starting to think that you're not cut out to be the first officer anymore, Edna." He looked over her shoulder. "What do you think, Bones?"

"I've been telling you that since you decided it was a good idea," McCoy replied, his voice behind her. "See where it's gotten you?"

Kirk shrugged. "She's good at her job with that talented tongue of hers," he replied matter-of-factly while smirking. "Plus it's always nice to have a gorgeous woman to show off."

"That's just like you, Jim," the doctor rolled his eyes. "Always thinking with your _other_ head. Woman's not good enough for being in charge."

Uhura paid no attention to McCoy's comment, continuing to stare at Kirk. "I'll take this to the highest authority I have to. There has to be _someone_ in Starfleet who hasn't been corrupted, yet."

McCoy butted in once more. "You've got that nasty little stigma of having been a Vulcan's plaything hanging over your pretty little head. _No_ one in Starfleet is _ever_ going to take a word you say seriously."

Uhura took a deep breath, attempting to ignore McCoy's dig at Spock. Even though she had not been formally punished for the relationship she had with Spock, having Spock being labeled a rapist who had taken her mind from her was much worse than any punishment as far as she was concerned.

Kirk stepped even closer to her, if that was possible, and stared down at her, lust in his eyes. Uhura maintained the gaze, her gaze harsh. He sighed softly and brought a hand to her face gently, belying his cruel nature. He trailed his hand down her shoulder, her arm and to her waist once again and pulled her against him. Uhura remained stoic, unresponsive to his touch as he brought his lips to her throat, before whispering in her ear. "Maybe you would be better suited to being my woman."

Uhura finally moved. Her hand quickly moved to the dagger at her thigh, grabbing it and jerked her hand forward, cutting Kirk's chest lightly. In surprise and pain, he jumped back, hand moving to the wound. She held the dagger up, pointed at the captain. "Never," she avowed, her voice hard.

She turned on her heel and began to move to the door, sidestepping the amused McCoy, but was quickly pulled back against Kirk's chest. He spoke harshly in her ear. "Just keep reminding yourself that because of me, you haven't ended up in prison like your boy Spock. I'd hate to imagine what would happen to you if I accidentally let your secret slip."

Attempting to ignore his comment, Uhura jerked away from him and left the ready room.

* * *

Gaila knocked on the door Spock's quarters. It was late morning. Typically he would be awake by now, but she supposed the events of the past few days had drained him. She couldn't possibly imagine how it felt to see and speak to the man who had sent him to prison after so many years. The restraint he showed when she was sure he wanted to rip his throat out –she sure did – but he was Vulcan after all, the very epitome of calm.

Not hearing a sound, Gaila overrode the security code to his quarters before quietly and slowly entering. Perhaps he was deep in meditation, which could explain why he didn't answer; there had been several times when such had occurred in the past. Her eyes scanned over the living area and, not seeing him, she moved towards the bedroom. The door was closed and she cracked it open, peering in. He wasn't on the bed. "Hmm, that's odd," she whispered to herself. Where was he?

Gaila walked fully into the room and searched the room for a hint, something to tell her where he was. She had information that she knew he'd want. There was a soft rustling on the other side of the bed, on the ground, and she walked in the direction of the sound, peering around the edge of the bed. Spock was on the ground, sleeping.

"Spock?" Gaila said his name quietly, stepping toward him.

He stirred at his name. He turned his head in the direction of her voice and she spoke his name once more, trying to wake him further. His current lethargic state told her that he did not sleep well last night. Gaila knew that Vulcans don't require as much sleep as say, a human, or even her, an Orion, but he had been awake for days preparing for the Admiral's appearance. His mind must have been going at a thousand miles an hour contemplating his plan now that it was finally here.

"Forgive me," he said, his voice drowsy and he lifted himself to his elbows and rubbed his face. "I had difficulty sleeping."

Gaila shook her head. "It's no problem," she reassured him. "I was just wondering if you were okay."

He nodded. "I am well."

Gaila looked from him and to the bed, finally unable to keep the question in, she asked, "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

He followed her gaze to the bed and gave a slight shrug. "I have found that after many years of sleeping on a stone slab, I cannot seem to become accustomed to anything else."

She nodded, feeling slightly guilty for bringing it up. Spock slowly stood and walked towards his closet, completely unmindful of his nudity. And why should he be? She was Orion after all; it's not like she would have been offended. But Gaila did gasp when she saw his back, which was completely covered in scars upon scars, crisscrossing across his skin. Her gasp caused him to look at her, wondering what the matter was. She pointed towards his back. "What….the hell happened to you?"

He closed up immediately. "It is none of your concern." She sighed, and crossed her arms over her chest. That was code for 'it happened in prison.' She knew that she would not get a more substantial answer so she clammed up and waited for him to get dressed. Finally, he turned to her. "What is it you need, Gaila?"

Eager to move past the awkward moment, Gaila took a big step toward him and smiled at him. "I was able to remotely connect to the computer on the Admiral's ship and I learned something quite interesting about Kirk." She paused for dramatic effect but Spock glowered at her, urging her to continue. Sighing, because he always managed to suck what little fun she had away, she continued. "It seems that Kirk was stuck at Lieutenant Commander for like ten years under Sulu. It was only in the last three years that he finally was promoted to Captain. And only because Sulu went 'missing.'" she finished, making air quotes with her fingers.

Spock's interest piqued and she saw his brain working overtime, theorizing on the scenarios that could have happened to Sulu. Personally, Gaila had her own theory, but since it was not her revenge, she kept quiet, wanting Spock to figure it out. "I have my suspicions on what happened to Sulu," Spock said after a moment. "But I believe it would be best to attempt to investigate as we can from here. Questioning Kirk would be a good place to start."

Gaila nodded and smiled. "Well, you'll get your chance to do that because the _Enterprise_ arrived a few minutes ago."


	17. Demonstration and Familiarity

At last, Kirk had arrived and Spock's plan could continue as planned. In order to convince Pike and Kirk that he was a legitimate weapons dealer, Spock felt that he needed to provide a demonstration, something to showcase the weapon's ability. He had diligently researched the red matter, using the information on the ship's computers to ascertain what it did exactly, how it did it, and how much material was needed to do it. It was a truly remarkable piece of science and Spock had to admit he almost felt out of his league, so to speak. The rate of scientific discovery over the next one hundred and twenty nine years in the universe where the Ambassador came from must have been extraordinary and Spock almost loathed admitting that it might not reach such standards here, in his universe.

Spock had prepared the red matter for his demonstration the night before, carefully extracting a miniscule amount from the large red globe and placing it in the canister which will then be shot out of the ship in space, at the small asteroid that will be passing overhead shortly. Scotty, who arrived shortly with his crew after Spock had called upon them for their help with his plan, would be manning the ship and had spent the last several days acquainting himself with the ship's controls and functions. The demonstration would need to get underway soon.

Spock left his quarters and walked down the corridor. The social gathering Gaila insisted they have should have, was underway. Despite his intense dislike of such events, Spock understood that perhaps it would be useful under these circumstances. Scotty's crew would be placed sporadically across the facility. While some would provide entertainment in addition to those who had already been hired, others would pose as extra 'potential buyers,' allowing Spock to bargain with Pike and Kirk for the weapon, having them believe that there was a serious chance they could lose out. And with the other people here as well as the crew of Pike and Kirk's ships, Spock would have the opportunity to watch Kirk and Pike from afar, to learn by observation.

As Spock neared reception hall where the entertainment was taking place, he was approached by young Mr. Chekov. "Mr. Sp- I'm sorry, I mean, Mr. Selek," he greeted, almost speaking his real name.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, Mr. Chekov?"

"Kirk and Pike are inside and are beginning to get impatient for your, uh, demonstration to begin," he informed the Vulcan. "I must ask, sir, what is your demonstration?"

"It will be apparent soon enough," Spock replied. "I must not keep the Admiral and Captain waiting much longer." He nodded to the young man and stepped through the doors of the reception hall, finding it brimming with excitement, music flowing, entertainers performing, and Gaila with the other dancers dancing, seductively. Spock caught her eyes and she smiled softly, giving him a small wave. Spock nodded in acknowledgement and she clandestinely pointed to her left. His eyes followed her finger and he spotted Kirk and Admiral Pike, along with Doctor McCoy, standing together in the corner of the room, discussing something with a drink in their hands.

Spock began to make his way to them, his eyes examining the crowd, unconsciously looking for a glimpse of Uhura. He couldn't help himself. Even if a part of him believed her to be against him, Spock still wished to set his eyes upon her beautiful face at least once more. But she was no where to be found. Surprised by his disappointment, he set aside the feeling to analyze later and continued towards his destination.

Pike took notice of Spock's approach and broke the conversation with his subordinates. Pike gave Spock a tight smile, his aversion to having to wait clear on his face. He was probably accustomed to obtaining everything he wanted quickly and effectively. Spock wasn't concerned however. He nodded respectively to the men. "Admiral Pike," he said stiltedly. "I apologize for the wait. I needed to prepare the weapon for the demonstration."

"Of course," Pike replied curtly. He turned to Kirk and introduced him, unaware that Spock already knew the both of them. "Selek, I must introduce you to my right hand man, Captain James Kirk and his chief medical officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy."

Spock turned his attention to Kirk. "Captain," he greeted. He turned to the doctor and nodded his head. He had not been expecting to see the man, who had also played a part in his imprisonment. "Doctor. I was not aware that a physician was required at meetings such as this," he commented.

McCoy shrugged. "I just wanted to see the show. Nothing like a good ol' weapon demonstration to get the blood pumping. Me, personally? I've dabbled a bit in biological weaponry but nothing to the scale you have here."

Spock quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "Really? I must say that I did not expect a physician, someone who has dedicated his life to the well-being of others to be so dismissive about the loss of lives."

McCoy furrowed his brow. "You know, mister, you sure do talk funny," he noted before shrugging. "It's just a hobby anyway," he added, defensively.

"Indeed," Spock replied, deciding against pursuing further conversation. Truth be told, he had been expecting McCoy's less than glib behavior in regards to life. The medical oath clearly meant little to him as he gleefully manipulated others.

While Spock and McCoy were talking, Kirk had been studying Spock intently. "Selek, right?" He asked and Spock confirmed. "Quite the establishment you have here," Kirk continued, sweeping his arm over the room. "It's surprising that you could keep a place such as this a secret."

Spock knew it was an attempt to test him, perhaps even expose him for a fraud but Spock didn't allow him to deter him. "I have my ways," Spock replied. "But perhaps a demonstration of the weapon in question would ease your concerns?"

Pike smiled. "That's what I've been waiting for," he responded excitedly.

"Very well," Spock replied. He turned his attention to the crowd of people and spoke to them, raising his voice so that everyone could hear him. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please." He paused, waiting for the voices and music to hush before continuing. "If you would please exit the room and meet me in the courtyard, I will begin a demonstration of this weapon which you all seek. I hope from there it will become clear that this is my masterpiece."

Excited murmurs sounded when the crowd slowly but calmly exited the room. Spock turned to the three Starfleet officers, Pike, Kirk and McCoy. "After you, gentlemen." He lagged behind for a moment before following everyone outside.

Once with the rest of the crowd, Spock moved towards the ship that held the red matter and held up a communication device. "Mr. Scott, if you would please begin the demonstration."

"Roger that," Scotty replied. Spock stepped back, allowing the future ship's engines to begin and she lifted herself off the ground, the crowd buzzing at the sight of the ship ascending into the skies.

* * *

"Commander, I'm detecting a ship of unknown origins leaving the surface."

"On screen," Uhura ordered, sitting straighter in the captain's chair. She had opted to stay aboard while Kirk went to the surface to meet with Pike and the weapon dealer, not wanting to see what kind of destruction this weapon could cause.

The view screen shifted from system operations to the stars, focusing on a ship leaving the surface of the moon. It was not like any ship Uhura had ever seen before; it looked highly advanced. She stood and stepped toward the screen, studying the craft. She looked over her shoulder towards the science officer. "Keep track of it. I want to see what they're up to."

"Aye, commander," he replied.

It probably had something to do with the weapon but Uhura couldn't be sure. The small agile ship spun around before taking off in the direction of a small asteroid flying by the moon. Something small was ejected from the aft of the ship toward the asteroid and Uhura quickly to her officers. "What was that?"

The science officer, Lieutenant Richards, shook his head. "I'm not sure. The scanners are having a difficult time deciphering it."

"Then make them decipher it," Uhura ordered, more harshly than she would under normal circumstances, but the unknown was worrying her. She had no idea what kind of damage the device might cause. But an answer was not forthcoming as the ship suddenly shook and drifted off course.

Grabbing a hold of the railing, Uhura looked back at the view screen and gasped. Whatever that thing was, it had created a small anomaly in space. She was vaguely aware of the computers sensors beeping and members of the crew spouting out that they needed to move away from the disturbance or risk damaging the ship. Quickly, she ordered the helm to move back.

Uhura watched in horror as the asteroid buckled, pieces of it breaking apart from the whole before being pulled back to the asteroid and finally the asteroid caved in on itself, in a central point, before disappearing completely. The computer's sensors calmed and she frantically looked at Lieutenant Richards. "What the hell was that, Lieutenant?"

He shook his head, trying to comprehend the data his console was spewing out at him. "If the computer is correct…it was a small singularity. A black hole."

Uhura's mouth gaped. Her gaze went back to the view screen, now filled with empty space. This was the weapon the Admiral and Kirk were going after? If they were to get their hands on it, Uhura couldn't imagine the kind of damage they would do to get what they wanted. They were ruthless already. She had to try and stop them. If not them, she would go to the supplier directly. Someone in this God-forsaken Empire had to have some reason left.

Uhura turned to Lieutenant Richards, who was the next in line in the chain of command and ordered him to take the conn. Once he relieved his console, Uhura quickly left the bridge and headed to the transporter room and finally to the moon's surface.

Once she readjusted from the transportation, Uhura realized that the beam-in point was in the middle of a large building. She looked around, feeling slightly lost as she had no idea where to go. Leaving the room, she walked down a long hallway, trying to find someone to ask where the demonstration was.

Uhura turned the corner and ran smack into another person. She backed up and apologized for her clumsiness. "I am so sorry."

The woman looked at her and Uhura noticed immediately that she was Orion, with fiery red hair and blue eyes. She was dressed rather provocatively, but that was not surprising. "No," she said, giving Uhura a wide smile. "It's okay."

Uhura smiled back, and taking the chance that the Orion would know the building better than she, asked her where the demonstration took place. She happily gave the directions and Uhura thanked her, before taking off in the direction. But before she could get very far, the Orion called her back.

"Hey, what's your name?"

Uhura was momentarily taken aback, not expecting her to question her identity, but not seeing the harm in telling her, answered. "Commander Uhura."

For the briefest of moments, Uhura thought she saw recognition on the green woman's face at her name but it was gone before she could ask her about it. She instead smiled brightly and stepped forward and placed a hand on her chest. "I'm Gaila."

Unsure of why an Orion woman, who was dressed as a member of the slave population, was even talking to her, Uhura merely nodded and gave her a tight smile. "Hi, Gaila," she replied, taking a step back. Pointing over her shoulder, she continued. "I really must be getting-"

"Oh, yeah, sure. Bye," Gaila interrupted her and shooed her off.

Momentarily perplexed by Gaila's actions, Uhura watched her rush down the hall and disappear into a locked room before turning her attention back to her task. Following Gaila's instructions, Uhura quickly made her way to the reception hall where they were having the demonstration.

The number of potential buyers worried her. The room was almost packed. Even if Pike and Kirk did not come out as the top bidder, then almost certainly someone else in this room would. Perhaps she needed to talk to the creator of this….thing. She scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar form of Kirk. Wherever he was, Pike was sure to be near him. And perhaps even this weapons dealer.

Spotting the Captain at the far end of the room having a discussion with Pike, McCoy and another man who she assumed was the weapons dealer, Uhura quickly walked toward them. None of the men acknowledged her arrival. Rolling her eyes briefly, she spoke. "Captain, Admiral. May I have a word, please?"

Both the Admiral and the Captain turned to her quickly and McCoy followed suit. Kirk sighed heavily at her presence as she had expected while Pike glared at her. McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, silently watching the exchange. The unknown man still had not turned to face her when she spoke. "Sirs, the Enterprise was shaken by the disturbance caused by the demonstration, I believe it was. It was determined that this weapon we are here to obtain created a black hole." Uhura sighed heavily before her next statement, knowing that it would not go over well. "I must go on record in saying that I vehemently protest the purchase of this weapon. The damage this thing can do… I can't abide by it."

Pike stepped toward her, staring her down. "Now, look here, Commander," he said. "Your protest has been acknowledged, but I have to say you're way over your head here."

"And you aren't, sir?" Uhura countered. She knew the admiral would not take too kindly to her impudence but she had been unable to rein it in.

"I will not take that kind of disrespect from you, woman," Pike growled and made a motion to grab her arm.

At that moment the other man turned and seized the admiral's arm, preventing him from grabbing hold of her. "Admiral," he said before releasing the Pike's arm. "I will not allow such actions in my presence."

Uhura looked at the man, whose his eyes were glaring at the admiral, his facial expression still. His stiff way of speaking sounded so familiar. Despite her intense dislike of his weapon, she was thankful that he had stopped the Admiral. Pike jerked his arm away from the weapons dealer and turned his back to everyone, angrily, clearly unused to being ordered around.

The man turned to face Uhura and she was gob smacked. His deep brown eyes were so full of emotion and yet, completely belied the neutral expression on his face. If she did not know any better, she would have thought he was Vulcan, except he certainly did not look like any Vulcan she had ever met. His hair, so thick and long, fell low on his forehead, obscuring his brows and his ears, was black in color. His face, unshaven, was dusted with a five o'clock shadow; her eyes fell to his lips, so beautifully shaped, so much like her Spock. He held himself rigidly, yet another thing that reminded her so much of Spock. She caught his gaze and was swept away in his eyes, so stunningly expressive…

Why did he remind her of Spock?

"It is an honor to meet you," he said, reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss on top, like the men did in all those old movies she used to watch with Spock when they needed to escape the real world. Uhura was at a loss of words, embarrassing herself by standing there, gaping at him. "I am called Selek," he introduced himself.

Uhura could feel Kirk's eyes glaring at her and McCoy chuckle when she managed to give the man a small smile; replying, her voice weak. "Commander Uhura."

"Perhaps I should speak with the lovely Commander Uhura alone," Selek said, pulling her toward him. Uhura did not bother to prevent him from doing so, finding herself completely enraptured by him, despite her original intentions. "I may be able to persuade her to our side, gentlemen."

"Fine, whatever," Kirk abruptly replied, the jealousy in his voice. Uhura knew he was angry that she had allowed this man, who created a weapon capable of killing thousands, touch her as he had just done. She couldn't explain as she had surprised herself as well.

"I wouldn't let her get too close, if it were me," McCoy cut in. "Never know where she's been. Or who's touched her."

Uhura rolled her eyes, having grown used to his denigrating comments over the years. Selek froze and turned to the doctor, his eyes hard. He opened his mouth to speak, but Uhura tugged on his hand, wanting to leave it. It wasn't worth the effort. Selek, a decidedly Vulcan name for a man who decidedly looked human, caught her warning and keeping his light grip on her hand, walked away from Pike, Kirk and McCoy, pulling her with him.

She allowed him to do so.

* * *

Kirk watched Selek drag Uhura away; she was completely enraptured with him, a man who created this weapon…something that she, not even five minutes ago, denounced as being completely evil. But with one look, one chaste kiss, she was completely mesmerized.

Kirk didn't understand it. Why could a complete stranger, whom she hated on principle, swoop in and sweep her off her feet while he, who had known her for years, couldn't even get her first name? And he could forget into his bed. He had tried. Countless times he had tried to bed her, but unlike most women in the Fleet, she was strong willed and an independent thinker. That was part of why he wanted her as his first officer…and the bedding thing.

Selek pulled her into the crowd, causing Kirk to lose track of them. Which was just as well; he didn't want to think about how Selek was going to 'persuade' her to their side. Admiral Pike cleared his throat, disrupting his thoughts.

"What do you think? About Selek? Think he's legit?" he asked.

"I think," Kirk paused, organizing his thoughts. "I think that was one hell of a demonstration, sir."

Pike laughed. "You got that right," he replied, slapping a hand on the back of Kirk's shoulder. "But I must admit that I'm a little leery of Selek. I mean, how can a guy who can create weapons such as this remain unknown to Starfleet and the Empire?"

Kirk agreed. It was quite unusual that he could have remained hidden. If he truly could create weapons of this scope, he would have been recruited by the Empire years ago. "We could research him," he suggested. "See what we can find out from the people who've dealt with him. See if he delivers."

Pike shook his head. "No, that would take too much time. We've seen what this thing is capable of." He nodded to the crowd of potential buyers. "I want it. I don't want to be outbid. We need to take steps to make sure that doesn't happen."

McCoy, who had been quietly listening in, spoke up. "I could see to it that Selek is…incapacitated. Without it being traced back to us."

Pike concurred enthusiastically, his head bobbing up and down. "See to it."

"Yes, sir," McCoy replied, smiling.

Kirk's eyes had drifted back to the crowd, finally spotting Uhura and Selek, dancing, his hand low on her hip, holding her close. And she had allowed him to do so. He suppressed a sigh. What did it take to break through her walls?

Pike noticed where Kirk's attention had disappeared to and he sighed heavily. "Your first officer is a loose cannon. You need to get her under control. I ought to have her throat for disrespecting me like she did."

"That's what I've been telling him," McCoy added, glaring at Kirk as well.

Kirk lowered his head, nodding slightly, knowing that arguing with the Admiral would be a lost cause. He knew that he – like McCoy – liked his women subservient, but Kirk didn't want to break her. He liked her mind the way it was. He liked her challenging him because it made everyday more interesting. It would be too boring if she caved to his every whim. His eyes travelled back to the crowd, and Uhura, once more.

Selek was still touching her.

* * *

Uhura had allowed Selek to pull her to the dance floor and hold her close. She couldn't explain the inexplicable attraction she felt to him. There was just something about him, something so similar to Spock that she didn't understand. But despite the pull she immediately felt towards him, she was wary of him and what he would say to try and change her mind on his weapon.

But he didn't talk about the weapon. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist gently and held her close. "Is this acceptable?" he asked, his voice quiet.

But her mind had not been paying attention to him. Rather she had been focusing on how he felt near her. So…familiar. Uhura hadn't thought of Spock for so long, why was she now being surrounded by things that brought up the painful memories?

"Commander? Are you well?"

Selek's words brought Uhura out of her trance and she jerked her eyes back to his, nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'm sorry. You just remind me of someone from a long time ago. Someone I cared about very much." She pulled away from him, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead. Perhaps she was tired. "I'm sorry."

Selek watched her with those expressive eyes of his, curiously. "What happened to him?"

Uhura sighed slowly. "I was told he died. But I couldn't find anything about how or why or even confirm it for myself." She groaned. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you with this."

He shook his head, "It is of no concern, because I am not that man."

Uhura gave a small laugh. "No, no, you can't be," she agreed. Selek made a motion to wrap his arms around her once more and continue their dance, but Pike, Kirk and the doctor had come to them, interrupting.

"Admiral, Captain," Selek greeted, pulling away from Uhura. "Doctor." While he stood rigidly, he did not fold his hands behind his back like last time, instead folding them across his chest. Despite the easy pose, it looked uncomfortable for him, like something he was not accustomed to doing.

Uhura excused herself and walked back to the hors d'oeuvre table, watching the four men converse, knowing that anything she said would be shot down as quickly as it came out of her mouth. And of their own free will, her eyes travelled to Selek once more, studying him. It seemed as though she could not let go of the feeling that she should know him.

"As impressive as your weapon is," Pike spoke, "I'm going to need to take some time to think this over."

Uhura saw Selek raise his eyebrow, in an almost mirror reflection of the movement Spock would do when he was surprised, confused or teasing. The resemblance taunted her. She shook her head to clear it. She must be more tired than she had believed.

The three men began to walk away from her, and the crowd drowned out their conversation but she kept her eyes on them. Even if she couldn't hear them speak, that didn't mean she couldn't detect the meaning of the conversation via body language. Earlier Selek's body language had been stilted, but now it seemed that he was forcing himself to relax. He held his body more loosely than he had been only moments ago, but it looked unnatural for him, like he had to remind himself to continue to do so. It was quite odd.

In the midst of their conversation, Selek reached up and ran his hand, rather stiffly, through his hair. Unknowingly to him, his hair, which must have been painstakingly arranged around his head, strategically placed to cover his forehead and drape over his ears, had shifted.

Uhura eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open.

His ears…were pointy.

Selek was not human as she had believed. Suddenly, it clicked. The ears, the eyebrow, the overly formal speech and stiff body language, and the inexplicable attraction she had towards him. He was Vulcan.

Spock.


	18. Not the Same Man

After the party, Spock released a deep breath of relief. There was been a reason he had been reluctant to participate in such an event. It tired him out, mentally and emotionally. He had never been one for large crowds of people, preferring his interpersonal interactions to be in small groups or one on one. But Gaila was persistent when she wished to be and Spock had to admit that it did seem to work. Pike and Kirk were definitely interested in what he could offer them.

But having to pretend wore on him. Vulcans were not prone to lying, not seeing any logic behind it, but Spock had done so many times tonight. To Kirk, to Pike, to Uhura…

… _Nyota_. Spock had been surprised by her appearance. He hadn't been expecting her when he didn't see her initially. When she addressed Pike and Kirk, protesting their actions, he had to control his reaction, taking deep calming breaths in an effort to control the emotions that had awoken inside him after so many years lying dormant. When Spock saw Pike move to restrain her, he reacted; he could not bear to see her physically harmed.

She was still just as beautiful as she had been that fateful night.

A part of wanted to drop all pretenses, run to her, and take her in his arms. But he had changed so much. He was not the same man she had known; revenge was on heavy on his mind. So much had happened. Spock had seen a part of Starfleet that he never knew existed. He had been so naïve.

Another part of him could not let his plan fail; he needed to expose Pike and Kirk and the others for what they had done to him and possibly others. But where did Uhura fit in all of this? Spock had originally been under the impression that she was a willing participant in Pike and Kirk's scheme but her vehement protestations against the red matter seemed to paint a different picture. Spock would need more information before coming to a definite conclusion as far as Uhura was concerned.

Spock sighed heavily. He needed to meditate as his thoughts were unfocused. He walked toward his quarters slowly. As he approached the door, Gaila appeared. He acknowledged her presence with a nod. "Gaila."

"Spock," she replied, giving him a sly smile.

"I must meditate on today's events. Please see to it that I am not disturbed," he politely requested.

"Of course," she acquiesced. "Have a nice night." She winked at him, perplexing him, before turning on her heel and walking down the hall.

Most times, Gaila's actions would leave Spock befuddled. He usually attributed it to her Orion nature, but tonight, the wink of her eye, the sly smile truly confounded him. He couldn't imagine why she would do such actions, which were usually intended to mean that she knew something he didn't, something that was positive in nature, at least in her mind positive. Deciding that it was not worth time to dissect her motives at the moment, Spock turned to his door and opened it, stepping inside the dark room.

"Computer, lights fifty percent," he said and a second later the room was lit.

Spock halted. Ten feet in front of him, standing nervously, wringing her hands together was Uhura. Not knowing what to say, having been surprised, Spock stood motionless, watching her. Her eyes flitted over his form, glimmering with tears in the dim light. Spock's brows furrowed when she stepped closer to him, eyes sweeping over his face, a look of shock and happiness on her face.

"Commander?" Spock finally asked, still unsure of what she was doing in here and why she was looking at him the way she was.

She lifted her hands and cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his lips. She released a breath and gave a short laugh. "Spock," she whispered then stood on her toes and placed her lips on his. She then peppered kisses all over his face, everywhere she could reach. Spock remained still, stunned; he had not expected anyone to recognize him. When she pulled back she said, "Pike told me you had been executed."

Instead of quickly dismissing her comment that he was Spock outright, he instinctively asked, "Did he?"

She smiled and laughed lightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. Spock found it incredibly difficult not to succumb to her. He longed to give in to her, to kiss her, to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her as closely as he could. But it wasn't possible. He was no longer the man she had known. Anger had grown inside him and didn't wish to fade. He couldn't pretend those years in prison were meaningless; they had made him harder, colder, angry. No longer was he the naïve, optimistic Vulcan she had known and if she truly was innocent in the whole matter, he did not wish for her to go down with him if it came to that.

Spock reached for her hands behind his neck, pulled them apart and pushed her away slightly. "You are mistaken," he whispered.

But she was not having it. She ignored his rebuffs and continued her attempts to pull him into her arms, to kiss him. "I don't care how you came back. We can be together again, like we were."

"You must leave," he mumbled against her lips, his hands trying to push her away. She shook her head, kissing him deeper and he allowed her to do so briefly, his control slipping. "Please, Nyota," Spock tried once more to reason with her, to get her to stop. He placed his hands on her waist and stepped back, holding her away from him. "I am only thinking of what could happen to you should your captain discover your location."

Uhura shook her head fervently. "They'll just think you're trying to 'persuade me to your side,'" she retaliated, easily brushing his hands off her waist before moving in once more, running her hands up his chest and to his shoulders. Spock should have expected his words earlier could have been used against him.

Since his gentle attempts to stop her had failed, Spock grabbed hold of her wrists tightly and pushed her back away from him. She looked at him, disbelief on her face and tears filling her eyes. "You are mistaken, Miss Uhura," he repeated. "I am not this Spock you speak of."

It was not a lie. Not completely. He wasn't, not the Spock she was remembering.

He saw the frustration and the sorrow fill Uhura's eyes. She jerked her hands away from him and turned around. She reached up to brush her tears away and she stifled a sob, attempting to rein in her emotional reaction. After a moment, her hands still on her face, she turned back to him. Spock saw that she had failed in restraining her tears, which were flowing freely from her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" she exclaimed, a sob on her voice. "God, why?" Her hands moved to cover her face, in an attempt to hide her tears from him, a flush of embarrassment coloring her face. "I must be going crazy," she whispered desperately. "You look so much like him…"

Spock hesitated. He had never been able to bear her tears; a fact that had always been his biggest weakness where she was concerned. And it still was. He wanted to confirm to her that yes, he was Spock, that they could be together again, but he couldn't. He could not necessarily be sure that she was not working with Kirk; even though she didn't like his weapon of choice, didn't mean that she was not on their side. It just meant that she was opposed to the mass killing the admiral was fond of. If anything else, Spock could not understand why she would be working with two of the men who had sent him away. There had to be a reason she was here with them and had been for years, just as there had to be a reason she accepted the first officer position in the first place.

As Spock watched Uhura attempt to suppress her tears, he questioned her in an attempt to determine her loyalties. "This Spock," he said. "You loved him, did you not?"

She nodded emphatically, taking a step toward him. "God, yes. So, so much."

"For how long?"

She continued to step to him, her gaze locking with his. "Ever since I met him."

"And how long after his death did you start working for the man who had him arrested?"

Uhura released her breath and took a step back as though Spock had physically hit her. She shook her head. "Tha-that's not fair. There were circumstances that….I had no-" She fumbled over her words, trying to find an explanation that Spock could accept.

Spock turned around and pressed the keypad to open his door. "You should return to your crew, Commander, before they begin to question your whereabouts," he said stoically while turning to her.

She watched him for a moment and Spock literally saw her give up. Her shoulders dropped and all the air within left. She sniffled once, nodded dejectedly and walked out the door. Spock moved to close it but she turned around and considered him.

"You're right," she agreed, narrowing her eyes in his direction. "You can't be my Spock."

"You have said it yourself. Spock is dead," he replied, pressing the button to close the door.

But Uhura held her hand out to prevent it from closing. She had one more thing to say. "My Spock would never have created a weapon like the one you did."

As she turned on her heels and stormed down the hallway, Spock released his breath slowly, the closing door obscuring his view of her. She was right about one thing. If he had been the same person he was before his life had changed, he would never have even considered doing what he was carrying out now. Seeking revenge for events that could not be changed was not a logical course of action. But logic had left him long ago.

Meditation would not happen tonight. He had been thrown by Uhura's appearance, which did beg the question: how had she entered his quarters, much less know his was located? She had to have had help, someone to give her the location and let her in. But who? Spock contemplated on the few moments that happened before he had entered his quarters, trying to ascertain if there was a clue on the identity…

Gaila.

Spock rushed out of his quarters and down the hall to Gaila's. He pressed the buzzer button and a second later, the door opened to an expectant Gaila. She smiled at him. "How did it go?"

If Spock had any doubts of her meddling, they would have faded. He fixed his eyes upon hers and spoke, not bothering to disguise the anger in his voice. "Do not interfere with my plan again."

She scoffed, the smile disappearing from her face. "Are you insane?"

"Everything is falling into place, my plan is working perfectly," he replied, ignoring her question. "And I do not need your interference disrupting me."

She leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest. She looked disappointingly at him. "I hate what this whole thing has done to you."

Spock cocked my head, brow furrowing. "You did not know me before all of this occurred, therefore you have no frame of reference to what I was like before we met."

"No," she agreed. "But I can imagine what you were like. Calm. Logical. And yet so filled with passion underneath all that." She laughed derisively. "And now…now you're nothing but revenge. It's not you. It can't be the real you." Gaila was emphatic in her declaration. Sighing, she took hold of his upper arms and pleaded, "Just take Nyota and run. Please, just go. Leave all this behind and be with the woman you love. The woman who loves you...still loves you so, so much. Scotty, Chekov and I can take care of Pike and Kirk. You can just run away."

Spock released a small sigh and tore his gaze from hers, feeling conflicted. And for the third time that night he contemplated it. It would be so easy, so easy to do what Gaila was suggesting. But the revenge that had consumed him for so many years won out. He couldn't ignore it now, not when he was so close to accomplishing what he had set out to do. "I cannot."

Gaila stared sadly at him for a moment, shaking her head. "Maybe you need to think about it, about what you _really_ want or even need. Maybe finally find some of that logic you've lost."

As she glared at him, Spock dropped his gaze from hers. She sighed once more, before turning back into her rooms and closing the door, leaving Spock alone with his thoughts.


	19. Confessions to a Doctor

Spock stood inside the lab that he had created inside the abandoned facility Gaila and he had renovated, eyes sweeping over the tables, ensuring that everything was in place, prepared to correct any minor error he should find. Everything needed to be perfect as Spock had invited Doctor McCoy to join him and he was due to arrive in approximately five minutes. Today he was going to learn from his past transgressions.

Spock had summoned the doctor here under the guise of a tour of his labs, featuring some of McCoy's favorite…hobbies; biological weapons, poisons mostly. Many of them were fakes, but a few were legitimate; Spock had procured some of them from Scotty and his crew, who used them rarely and only in dire situations; the others, Spock had created himself. It was one of the many activities Scotty and crew participated in that he disliked. But it could potentially prove useful today, if all goes according to plan.

As Spock was peering through a microscope, adjusting the slide, footsteps sounded behind him and he turned around. Gaila, still dressed in attire suitable for an Orion slave, had entered the room. Behind her stood McCoy, who was looking around the room, his appreciation clear on his face. "Doctor McCoy is here," Gaila said, gliding sensuously around him, increasing her natural pheromones to distract the doctor. McCoy smirked and reached out, trying to touch her but she backed away, just out of reach, teasing him.

"Thank you, Gaila," Spock replied. "You may wait outside." His voice was stern as though he was issuing an order but she nodded in return, having anticipated it. Spock knew she was not pleased with his decision to continue with his plans rather than take her suggestion and run away with Uhura and let Scotty takes care of them but he couldn't stop now. Not when he was so close.

"Yes, sir," she complied and left the room. Through the small window, Spock noticed that she had taken up her post as guard to prevent any interruption.

Spock turned his attention to McCoy who was pacing around the room, enthralled by the equipment. "Welcome Doctor."

McCoy jerked his head up to meet Spock's. He smiled and nodded to the room. "This is all yours?"

Spock confirmed. A lot of the equipment had already been present at the facility, but the more advanced equipment had come from the Ambassador's ship, which had a small lab that had been exquisitely equipped, more so than anything Spock had ever worked in while he was in Starfleet. But considering how scientific discovery was not the main goal of the Empire, at least not during his tenure, it was not overly surprising. Even if Starfleet's goal was shifting despite a few obstacles in the form of Admiral Pike, some things took a while to be implemented.

"Wow." McCoy replied with awe in his voice. He continued to study the equipment, weaving in and out of the tables. He pointed to one of the microscopes, wordlessly asking if he could peer through. Spock allowed him to do so, believing it could lull him into a safe sense of security. He intended to question the doctor.

McCoy pulled back from the scope and scoffed. "This is way better than anything I have ever had to work with in Starfleet. They haven't gotten around to issuing me more sophisticated equipment yet…too much damn paperwork."

"I had suspected as much," Spock replied as though he were sympathetic to his guest's plight. And to be perfectly honest, in a way, a purely scientific way, he was. The Empire had not been particularly giving to its scientists. If only this particular one had not chosen the path he had. "I must confess that I had invited you here for a reason, Doctor."

"Did you?"

"Yes," Spock took a deep breath, preparing for what he was about to say; this lie he had concocted. "I wish to try my hand at biological warfare but I have no previous experience doing so. When you mentioned yesterday that you have done so yourself, I thought that perhaps you like to examine my formulas to ensure that they are acceptable?"

McCoy nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps it was the generously equipped lab that made him agree; anything to work in a well stocked lab would get any scientist excited, even one such as Spock or even the doctor. "Really? What do you need my help with?"

Spock gestured to the room. "Laid out here are several potential weapons, all in different stages of development. Some affect other species better than others while some species will prove to be immune to others."

"Right, so you can point and choose the target," McCoy replied, understanding Spock's meaning.

"Essentially, yes," Spock confirmed and directed the doctor to one particular station in the middle of the room. "This particular one is especially toxic. It kills its victims slowly in a very efficient yet painful manner." He pressed a button on the monitor to bring up the chemical makeup of the poison for the doctor to peruse. Over his shoulder, Spock continued to speak, outlining his purpose for the drug. "I believe that it could prove very useful in interrogation situations. And if need be, an antidote can be provided. I am aware that not all of my buyers will want to kill if it can be avoided."

"Right. You know, you sure talk funny, Mr. Selek. Reminds me of this one damn Vulcan who used to be part of our crew years ago. Thank God we got rid of him. Can't stand the damn green blooded hobgoblins," Doctor McCoy replied, faking a shudder, his eyes continuing to scan the monitor.

"Indeed," Spock responded, stoically, unable to prevent the narrowing of his eyes in the doctor's direction. Doctor McCoy's xenophobia had always been well known among the Enterprise crew even when Spock had been aboard. As a result of his less than favorable opinions of Vulcans and any other alien race, Spock tended to distant himself from McCoy. In point of fact, this was perhaps the most time Spock had ever spent alone with him and he was eagerly looking forward to ending it.

After a moment of examining it, McCoy turned to him, curiosity in his eyes. "Now, what did you want me to tell you about this?"

Spock paused momentarily, his mind quickly going over a response. "Do you believe that the formula will be effective?"

McCoy shrugged, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't see anything wrong with it at first glance. Have you tested it on anyone yet?"

Spock shook his head. "Not yet, Doctor. I have yet to find a suitable candidate to test it on, though I do believe I am getting closer to locating one."

The doctor nodded, turned slightly back to the table and shrugged, his hand reaching for the injector at the side of the microscope. "Well, no time like the present," he said before lunging towards Spock, grasping his shoulder to hold him still and slammed the injector against the Vulcan's neck, pressing the release gauge.

Spock remained still, feeling the liquid poison enter his body. He was not surprised that the Doctor had attempted to poison him; truth be told he would have been more surprised if he hadn't. McCoy stood staring at him, shock in his eyes, having fully expected it to work. Spock casually took the injector from the doctor's slacken hand and examined it. "It appears that this poison is ineffective."

McCoy nervously chuckled, not sure if Spock was going to retaliate against him for what he had done or not. Spock noticed his nervousness and posed a question, one that he believed he already knew the answer to. "Did the Admiral and Captain order you to incapacitate me so that they could take the red matter without needing to win the bid?"

The shock and intense apprehension was still clear on Doctor McCoy's face when he confirmed. "…Yes."

Spock nodded, placing the injector back on the lab table, before linking his hands behind his back in an attempt to appear non-confrontational. "I had suspected such an incident would occur and as a result, I planted a fake."

McCoy was still tense, backing up from him slightly. His gaze flitted to the door, which had been locked. He swallowed thickly. "Um...really?"

"I am not angry, Doctor." At my words, Spock finally noticed the doctor visually calm and relax slightly. He continued, "But I am curious. If the Admiral has a scientist such as you within his scope, one who is more than capable of creating a weapon that can easily kill thousands of people, why is he pursuing my weapon? Would it not simply be more efficient, not to mention less…corrupt, to utilize what is already at his disposal?"

The doctor shrugged. "Maybe but it's not my decision."

Spock agreed. "True. It is not. It was just an observation."

"Right," he replied, suspicion in his voice. He returned to walking around the room, avoiding me. Spock couldn't fault him for his behavior at the moment.

"I must confess, Doctor," Spock continued speaking, ignoring the doctor's anxiety. "I do find your methods of dispatching your perceived enemies to be…deplorable."

The doctor, ignoring his own nervousness, twirled around to face Spock, shock on his face. "Really? Mr. I-Created-A-Weapon-So-Powerful-It-Creates-A-Black-Hole finds _my_ methods horrible?"

Spock shrugged. "Another confession, doctor."

McCoy scoffed. "Really? This is going to be interesting."

Spock paused, as though he were hesitating, before continuing. "I did not create the weapon. I have, in fact, not created a single weapon in my lifetime, though these poisons are indeed real."

Spock had to admit that it was a relief to let go of all pretenses, despite this being part of his plan. Lying was not natural for Vulcans and they typically would only do so if it was necessary for the wellbeing of themselves and others. In this it was not necessary, but his human side won the battle. The doctor laughed suspiciously, believing that this was all one big hoax. "Okay…did Jim set you up to this? Is this a joke?"

Spock shook his head. "No prank doctor. But as far as your captain goes, I have learned that he has only been captain for the last three years. Before that he was first officer under the command of Captain Hikaru Sulu, who went missing. I have a theory as to what caused his disappearance."

"And that would be?"

Spock answered curtly. "He ordered you poisoned him."

McCoy chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, he did." His voice carried an air of haughtiness. He was proud of what he had done. Feeling more comfortable around Spock, McCoy turned his back to him, pacing the room. Spock kept his eyes on him, suspecting that he would try and incapacitate him as order. With his back turned to him, McCoy began to speak, "But now that we're being all honest with each other, I have a confession to make as well, Mr. Selek."

Spock lifted his brows. "Please do, doctor," he replied, clandestinely reaching for the injector on the table once more. It appeared that his caution was necessary because McCoy whirled around and fumbled around for where he had known the injector had been. Not finding it, he instead grunted and lunged towards Spock in an attempt to subdue him. As the doctor was not well versed in martial arts, a failing of the medical field training in Starfleet, Spock was able to easily sidestep him and reached up, plunging the injector into his neck and releasing the poison.

He groaned and fell to the floor, grasping the side of his neck. He gasped; the poison working its way through his bloodstream, causing pain in his central nervous system. As Spock knelt down before him, watching with a curious eye, he writhed around on the floor, releasing shuddering breaths. "What…the…hell?" he asked through gasps, his eyes staring daggers into the Vulcan.

Spock knew the doctor was confused. He had used this very same injector on him earlier to no avail and now he was experiencing pain like he never had before. "Another confession, Doctor," Spock replied. "This particular injection does not react to Vulcan blood, only human."

His eyes widened in shock. "Vulcan?" he wheezed.

Spock nodded. "Yes."

McCoy rolled to his side and reached up to clutch Spock's jacket lapel and pulled him down toward him. The pain had caused sweat to form across his brow and he took shuddering breaths, trying to alleviate the pain, no matter how futile it was. He glared at him. "Who the hell are you?"

Spock made no move to remove McCoy's grip on his jacket and returned his gaze, his eyes hard. Shrugging, he responded, "I am Selek, weapons dealer…but perhaps you would remember me better as Spock, the Vulcan you helped falsely imprison."

This time McCoy's eyes widened in disbelief and he scanned Spock's face, searching for the recognizable features that he had been blind to for the past few days. He released a shaky scoff. "My God, man," he said, his voice shaky with pain. "I thought you were dead."

"Reports of my death have been…" Spock paused, trying to find the words. "…greatly exaggerated, Doctor."* As McCoy groaned at a particularly painful jolt, Spock watched casually, completely unaffected. That fact did disturb him; he was not always like this. At one time he had been wholly against these types of punishment, but as he knelt over McCoy, watching the pain play out over his features, he felt…vindicated. At least in part. "It is a disappointment that you killed Sulu," Spock spoke quietly, surprising himself. "I would have enjoyed punishing him as well."

Spock reached down and removed McCoy's hand from his jacket. McCoy fell to the ground, groaning, curling into the fetal position. Spock stood and, ignoring the doctor's pleas to him to stop his pain, to kill him if that's what it took, Spock went to the door. He unlocked and opened it. McCoy's pain intensified and Spock heard him scream when he door close behind him.

Spock continued walking forward. Gaila was standing apprehensively at the end of the corridor and she flinched when she heard the doctor's scream. Spock walked past her unconcerned. She called his name, her voice begging him to stop. He didn't turn back to her but replied over his shoulder.

"Get M'Benga to give him the antidote and then lock him in the brig."


	20. Sins of the Admiral

After his meeting with Doctor McCoy ended, Spock made his way to the room Gaila had renovated to be a lounge for their guests, a room Spock found to be wholly unnecessary, but she insisted upon it. And he had learned fairly quickly after meeting her that most times it was best to allow her to do as she wished if he didn't wish to incite an argument. It was a personality quirk that she shared with Uhura.

Spock had received a message during his…meeting with Doctor McCoy from Admiral Pike stating that he had made his decision on the weapon. The computer system informed him that Pike was in the lounge room. When he entered the lounge, Spock found that Pike was with several of the women who came from Scotty's crew to provide distractions for the men, as well as surveillance.

Pike was leaning back in one of the chaises, enjoying the women's company. One of the Orion women had chosen to seat herself next to Pike, draping her body across his while the other women were scattered about the room, either sensuously dancing together or engaging in activities that were better suited to the bedroom. When Spock had relented to Gaila's wishes, however, he wasn't under the impression that he would be hosting a…brothel, for lack of a better word, but it appeared that he was mistaken. But while he personally would never engage in such behavior, even if propositioned as he had been numerous times, Spock knew and understood that as many of these women were of Orion descent, it was perfectly natural for them. And Admiral Pike seemed to be enjoying the show.

Unable to entirely ignore his natural inclination to detest such debauchery in public, Spock spoke, interrupting the flow of pheromones from the Orions. "Admiral, I received word that you have made your decision on whether or not you would like to place your bid on the weapon."

Pike turned his head towards him and grinned. "Ah, Selek, yes, I have." He nudged the woman lying on him, silently ordering her off of him, which she did so. Pike stood, picking up a PADD from the small coffee table, and walked towards Spock. "After much deliberation, Captain Kirk and I have decided that we'd like that weapon. I've been very impressed with your facility here and with your work," he complimented. Shaking his head in disbelief, he continued, eagerly locking his gaze with mine. "I don't know how you managed to stay hidden for so long, but how would you like to work for the Empire? Or specifically, I should say, me?"

Spock shook his head in the negative. "I must admit that the possibility never entered my mind, Admiral," he replied.

Pike dropped his gaze to the PADD, examining it briefly before holding it out to the Vulcan. "Would this make it enter your mind?"

Spock reached out and took the PADD from the Admiral's hand and looked it over. It was an estimate on what he could expect to receive as payment for his services if he chose to design weapons for Pike. The figure was quite generous, if he was to be honest. Extremely generous. Unconsciously his eyebrow rose in surprise. "I believe this could be the start of a long and fruitful relationship, Admiral."

The Admiral broke out in a loud guffaw, clearly pleased with Spock's agreement. Spock remained quiet, finding Pike's laughter to be slightly overwhelming. Still chortling, Pike replied, "I knew I could win you over."

"Indeed, Admiral," Spock responded. He placed the PADD on a table at his side and turned to Pike, clasping his hands behind his back. "And now that we are going to be working together, may I pose a question?"

Pike nodded, smiling. "Sure, anything you want."

Spock took a second, mentally phrasing his question, preparing his arguments for the defensive reaction he would no doubt receive. "I am curious, Admiral," Spock began innocently.

"Yeah, about what?" Pike relied, accepting a piece of fruit from one of the women.

"Why did you tell Commander Uhura thirteen years ago that Captain Spock had been executed?"

The question threw the admiral; he had not been expecting that. It had been Spock's goal to surprise him, assuming that by springing the question on him, Pike would not be prepared to shut him down. "Uh, I'm not sure I understand," Pike replied, trying to delay Spock's line of questioning in an effort to learn more. "What are you talking about?"

Spock shrugged slightly. "It is a perfectly simple question, Admiral. Why did you tell her that-"

Pike cut him off, demanding, "How do you even know about that?"

Spock turned and walked around the room, mindful of the curious gazes of the women. He needed them to leave as quietly as they could, preferably to garner Scotty's attention, to tell him that it was time to apprehend the admiral. As he neared each woman, he silently asked her to leave. One by one the women nodded in response, understanding that he desired to be alone with the Admiral, and left.

Pike, frustrated by the lack of response to his question, spoke once more, trying to make the charges seem legitimate. "You don't understand. Spock had conversed with Nero, accepting and giving him information. That was clearly treason."

As Spock nodded to the last woman in the room asking her to leave, he looked at the admiral out of the corner of his eye. "But we both know that the information exchanged was purely innocent, Admiral."

Once more Pike attempted to take the blame off of him, no matter how ill-contrived, and place it back on Spock. "He also forced himself on Commander Uhura. If anything I would have thought she would be glad to be rid of him."

Spock shook his head, slowly moving closer to him. "You also know as well as I do that those claims were false. Captain Spock never forced himself on the Commander. She welcomed his presence in her life, and he her." Spock noted Pike's grimace of disgust when he mentioned that Uhura and he had been in a relationship. While Pike liked the sexual gratification alien women could offer him, he detested long term relationships with members of different species. Spock ignored his response and continued. "Sending the captain to prison on both of those false accusations was highly unacceptable. But to tell-"

Pike stepped toward Spock in an attempt to appear intimidating, interrupting him. He spoke with an air of authority, challenging the Vulcan. "I demand to know what the meaning of this conversation is."

His threatening demeanor did not deter Spock in the slightest, a fact that clearly bothered the Admiral. "I have asked myself repeatedly, what did you, Admiral Christopher Pike, stand to gain by telling Commander Uhura that Captain Spock is dead?"

Spock watched Pike move to the door of the room but, moving to the central control panel on the wall to his left, Spock entered the code to lock the door before Pike could reach it. "The answer to the query is absolutely nothing. At least not directly."

The Admiral spun around. "Right," he replied, "I had nothing to gain from it, so why-"

Spock stepped toward him. "But if you, Admiral Pike, do not stand to gain from the lie, then who does?"

Admiral Pike attempted to remain calm, but Spock could see the panic growing within him, despite his best attempts to suppress it. He was used to being the one in charge, the one controlling the situation, issuing orders and demands but at the moment, Spock was taking his control away and he could not grasp the idea. Seeing that his exit was taken away from him, he said, "I believe that you have been hanging around on this moon for far too long. It's messing with your mind, making you think of crazy theories. Maybe we should see Doctor McCoy, make sure you're in your right mind."

"Doctor McCoy is indisposed at the moment," Spock quickly responded before continuing his discourse. "It has become apparent to me that the clearest beneficiary is Captain Kirk. He always had an unhealthy infatuation with the Commander."

Pike released a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "I don't understand what any of this has to do with our business relationship."

Spock turned to him and took a step, his eyes boring into his. "I am about to inform you, Admiral." With Pike watching him carefully, Spock began to walk around the lounge, adopting his usual stance, hands clasped behind his back. "It is about power and your incredible weakness for it."

Admiral Pike scoffed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Spock refuted Pike's statement and continued his explanation, unconsciously adopting the same tone he had used when he was an instructor at the Academy all those years ago. "I believe that I do, Admiral. When Captain Spock ignored orders from his own commanding officer to apprehend Nero, it provided you a unique opportunity. After Nero's heinous actions while emperor the Empire, people began to want change, an end to the oppression and tyranny we have experienced over the centuries. Starfleet was meant to lead the way to such realization."

"Anyone who believed that would ever be possible is out of their mind," Pike countered.

Spock continued as though Pike had not spoken. "You saw a way to garner the trust of the Empire, and even those in Starfleet who were easily persuaded. You released Nero in order to capture him again, even kill him. But how would you do so without the blame being placed on yourself?"

Pike turned on Spock, hands gesturing emphatically, his pointer finger directed toward the Vulcan. "Exactly! Your own theory has loopholes. Why would anyone take you seriously?"

Spock shook his head, indicating that he was not finished speaking, not finished explaining. "Enter Captain James T. Kirk, then Lieutenant, who had let his personal and professional jealousies overtake him. He came to you with falsified medical records of Commander Uhura's brain that you used to incriminate Captain Spock. Do you remember?"

Pike's eyes grew in size, in surprise. He darted around the room, desperately searching for a way out. Spock was getting to him and he was panicking. Pike rushed to the nearest exit once more and tried the door, finding it locked. He turned on his heels and rushed to the other door on the opposite side of the room and met with the same results. "Why is this door locked?" He demanded. "I order you to release me at once. You are no friend of mine."

"I am not Starfleet, Admiral, therefore I am not required to follow your orders," Spock replied, walking coolly towards the troubled admiral, continuing his oration. "With the falsified information garnered from Kirk, you were able to convince those in Starfleet that Captain Spock was liable for Nero's escape, that he had prior offenses. And once Nero was out and the blame placed solely on Spock, you were able to convince Command that you were the right person to be in charge and that Admiral Barnett was compromised by his trust in Spock, therefore having him removed from his post. Spock's father, Sarek, had launched his own investigation and for fear that he might discover the truth, you had him killed."

Pike shook his head, trying desperately to refute Spock's words. "You have no proof, no witnesses, only your theories and speculations."

Spock looked at the admiral, desperate in his pleas, almost with an air of sympathy. He apologetically shook his head. "That is where you are wrong, Admiral. I have Doctor McCoy's statements. And I have Kirk's."

Pike released a growl and stepped away from Spock, pacing around the room, his steps heavy. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling the salt and pepper strands. "It doesn't matter what they say. It's their word against mine, and mine carries a bit more weight."

"There are two things you did not count on, Admiral," Spock interrupted Pike's attempt to reassure himself.

Pike turned on his heel to face Spock, his face fearful. "Yeah, and what would that be?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm and in control but failing.

"There are those in Starfleet who wished to see you removed," Spock stated matter-of-factly, as cool as he would have had he been relaying statistics. "Your methods of control, your actions…they do not believe that is the correct direction for Starfleet." Spock moved to the control panel and entered the key code. The doors to the lounge slid opened and Scotty and Chekov entered, with several other crew members, phasers trained on the admiral. Spock waited until they were in position, before speaking again, "There is a price on your head. I see no reason to prevent Mr. Scott and his crew from obtaining it however they see fit."

Pike looked around the room, taking in the phasers pointed at him, while he was unarmed. His breathing grew louder, he taking deeper breaths in an effort to calm his shaking nerves. He trained his gaze back on Spock, trying to ignore the phasers. "You said there were two things. What's the other thing?" Spock had to give the man credit, while he was clearly in a panic over his current situation, his voice had remained steady, not belying the fear his body was projecting.

Spock took a step towards Pike, meeting him eye to eye. "Me. Your plan to use me failed. I never died in prison."

Pike's eyes widened in realization, in recognition. "My God," he whispered.

Spock nodded once and turned on his heel, walking towards the exit. He refused to turn around, leaving Scotty and Chekov to take care of Pike. As he turned the corner around the door jamb, he heard a phaser go off.

He didn't concern himself with whether or not they had killed him.


	21. Reunion

Spock quickly entered his quarters for the night, feeling overwhelmed. He had relinquished both McCoy and Pike to Scotty and his crew in one day and now all that stood in his way was Kirk. He had to admit, however, that his actions were beginning to wear on his conscious.

Gaila was right. This wasn't who he was, not really. He was losing himself to this cause that had overwhelmed him, edging closer to the point of no return. It was a frightening prospect. His father, would have been disappointed had he known the direction Spock had taken over the years, how he let his weakness, his humanity, overtake him.

Spock took a deep breath and held it, slowly counting to ten then slowly released the air. He was unsure of what will happen to McCoy and Pike, assuming he was still alive, under the watch of Scotty and his crew, but he believed that they will be dealt with in a manner appropriate and taken back to Command.

Spock took another breath, searching for his center, his eyes drifting closed. But a sound from behind shook him from his calm and he twirled around, phaser raised, ready to take down the intruder. Once he realized the intruder's identity, Spock froze.

Nyota…

She had positioned herself against the wall next to the door so that she would not be immediately seen when someone entered. She looked at Spock expectantly, with wide eyes glittering with tears in the darkened room. He swiftly lowered his phaser and restrained a sigh. He was much too tired to have a conversation with her; much too tired to lie to her once more. "Miss Uhura," Spock said, his voice alarmingly betraying his tiredness. "I thought we had finished our conversation in our last meeting."

She took a small step forward. "So did I," she replied.

"Then why...?"

"I realized that you called me 'Nyota.' Spock was the only one who ever knew my first name," she continued, almost smugly as though she had solved a puzzle that he had not been able to.

Spock dropped his gaze from hers. She was right. When scanning his memories of the night before, he realized that he had indeed slipped, unconsciously referring to the name he had always used in their time alone. And as a result, his cover with her was blown. There was no use in pretending anymore. Spock released a long breath and shook his head, dropping the phaser to the ground. "What do you want of me?" he asked, resigned. Mentally, he prepared for the chance that she was here to turn him in, an escaped convict.

Spock lifted his gaze and Nyota stepped closer, eyes studying his face. Her tears spilled over and drifted down her cheeks, leaving salty trails behind. Spock resisted the urge to run his hand over her face, to brush the tears away. "I want...I need..." She fumbled over her words and released a shaky breath. "I want to be able to move on from you, like you have from me. Can we talk?" She asked, desperation in her eyes and voice. "Just for a little bit? And then I'll be out of your life if you want me to."

Spock contemplated it. He had missed her more than she could ever know but he had never moved on, not like she apparently believed. But at the same time, he felt too emotionally compromised to be with her in the same room once again, talking like they used to while she was still a student in the Academy and he an instructor. But he had missed her. He still craved her, even if it could never be as before. Uhura continued to look at him, patiently waiting for him to decide, her eyes pleading. He caught her gaze and his walls crumbled. "Very well," he acquiesced, making sure his voice was still as to not give away his troubled emotions. "What do you wish to know?"

Spock could see her contemplating what to ask first. She walked to him and lifted her hand to brush his hair from his eyes. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

He turned from her touch, to the window, the only source of light in the room. "I spent twelve years in the mining prison on Rura Penthe. And the last year anywhere I could before I ended up here on this moon several months ago," he recalled stoically, his hands clasped behind his back.

She drew in a sharp breath. "Rura Penthe?" she replied, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Did you..." she swallowed thickly. "Did you suffer?"

Had he been solely human, Spock's reaction would have been to scoff or roll his eyes at her question, the sheer ignorance of it. She knew of the prison, everyone in the Empire knew of it. To ask such a question - did he suffer? - did she truly believe that he would fall for her act, her worry, her concern? Everyone knew of the notoriety, the torture that went on in Rura Penthe...how no one ever came back alive. It was not a place anyone wanted to be sentenced to. "Are you finished?" Spock asked curtly, suddenly wishing that she would leave the room. He couldn't revisit those memories, how he lost himself there. "There is much on my mind. I must meditate."

She ignored his non-too-subtle attempt to get her leave. "What happened afterwards?"

"Much," he replied shortly.

She stepped between him and the window, forcing him to look at her. She spoke, her voice desperate yet demanding at the same time. "Why did you not come to me?"

"Why did you not wait? Why are you working for the man who sent me to prison, Nyota? Why are you with Kirk?" His voice was cold, hard. He was startled by the anger that had risen up inside. He needed to know, needed to know why she would do this, why she allowed Kirk to be near her, why she had agreed to follow Admiral Pike's bidding.

Uhura grabbed Spock's hands and lifted them to her face, placing his fingers on her psi points. "Feel me. Look into my mind, Spock," she said, her voice strong, determined. Her eyes locked with his, silently ordering him to do so. "I told you it would always be you," she whispered. "Always."

Spock allowed himself to briefly skim over her mind, feel the emotions that were dancing on the surface of her mind. Immediately, he was overwhelmed by her sadness, her concern, her happiness...her love for him. It washed over his being, surrounding him. Spock gasped at the intensity of her emotions, almost having forgotten the power she had always had over him. He stumbled forward slightly and she caught him, holding him upright. He leaned into her, his forehead on hers, her emotions overwhelming his control. It had been years since Spock had last touched another's mind in such an intimate fashion. The last time had been with Uhura as well, during their last night together before he was taken away.

Spock's breathing increased and he felt his emotional control weaken while her control over the situation increased, her feelings growing more intense by the second. He began to feel lightheaded, the lack of mental connections with another person over the years having eroded his control, and he attempted to pull away from her, to disconnect his mind from hers, but she held his hands tightly, keeping them on her face.

"Please," Spock's voice came out a mere whisper, shaky. "Please, Nyota. Do not take my hate from me. It is all I have left."

She shook her head against his. "No, no it's not," she replied vehemently. "You'll always have me. Your control. And Logic."

Spock jerked away, severing the connection, leaving him feeling cold in the sudden silence. "There is no Logic," he said harshly, "If anything had reason, then I would have never-"

His words were cut off by Nyota suddenly pressing her lips against his, her hands on his face, holding him close. Spock remained still, unresponsive, caught off guard by her actions. She placed several small kisses against his lips and across his cheeks before pulling back slightly, looking in his eyes. More tears fell from her large brown eyes and she lifted her hands, pushing his hair from his brow once more. She traced over his slanted eyebrows softly before moving to the side of his head, sweeping the hair behind his ears, her fingers gently caressing over their pointed tips. Spock watched her carefully, feeling overwhelmed by the situation, his restraint weakening. "It's okay," Uhura said, her voice barely a whisper. "It's okay." She leaned in again, kissing him fully.

The walls Spock had carefully built up over the years crumbled and he surrendered, giving into his desires. He responded to her kiss, pulling her closer against his body, his hands on her waist, caressing the soft skin just above the hem of her skirt. Their kiss increased in intensity, the distance, the time they had lost suddenly overpowering them. Uhura clung to him, her hands grasping his jacket, fumbling to push it off his shoulders. He allowed her to do and the sound of fabric falling to the ground followed. Spock wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tightly while his other hand moved to caress her face.

She pulled away from him and grabbed his hand, bringing her lips against them. Spock was unable to suppress a gasp when she kissed his fingers, stimulating his telepathic touch in a way only she knew. He navigated them backwards slowly, to the bed, his eyes on her lips, watching her mouth move across his fingers. Their breathing heavy, pupils dilated with desire, Spock brought his lips to hers once more, lifting her and carefully lowering her on the bed before settling over her. Uhura took hold of the hem of his undershirt and slipped her hands underneath, caressing the skin at his stomach before reaching behind and lightly drag her nails down his back. Spock growled into her touch, the feel of her eliciting his more primal urges.

But suddenly, she halted her movements and began to pull at the neckline of his shirt, trying to peer at his back. She had felt the scars that coursed down his back. "Spock, what…?" she asked, frantically pawing at his shirt, trying to remove it.

Spock grasped her hands in his own and pulled them from his back, bringing them to his lips and placing small kisses on them. "It is of no concern, Nyota," he replied, not wanting to focus on past events but rather on satisfying their growing desires. Releasing her hands, he growled and pulled back, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

Hovering above her, balancing on one hand, Spock trailed his other hand across Uhura's body, caressing the soft skin that was bare in the uniform she wore. He pressed his lips against hers; kissing her while his hand continued its journey downward, toward her thigh high leather boots. He felt for the zipper at the side of the boot but his hand collided with cold metal. Curious, he looked down and extricated a dagger that had been secured within her boot. He brought it up to examine it. He looked expectantly to Uhura, silently asking her its purpose.

"Just in case...some of the men tried to…uh…" Uhura shook her head sadly.

Spock quickly understood her meaning. "I will see to it that it is no longer needed," he promised and tossed the dagger to the floor, its heavy weight thudding against the ground.

"Spock," she whispered, drawing his face back to hers. She bent her neck and kissed him once more and he leaned into her, pressing her against the bed, allowing her to feel his need for her. She reached for his hand and took hold, tightly securing her small hand within his much larger one. Spock studied their hands, intertwined. Slowly, as not to overwhelm their control, he mentally connected with her, their emotions flowing over one another; their love, their longing, their desire.

Uhura whispered his name once more, her eyes begging him to make love to her. "Nyota," he responded, dropping his head and kissing the side of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly against her. She moved against him, encouraging him to continue.

Spock gave into her, finally unable to rein in his desires.

* * *

Later that night, Uhura lay against Spock, her head against his shoulder and her arm draped over his chest, holding him tightly. Spock's arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her, feeling her breath tickle the skin and hair on his chest. Their lovemaking had been intense, the emotions they felt for one another still as strong as the day they were torn apart.

Spock felt a peace he had not had in so many years, a peace that not even meditation could give him. He took a deep breath and turned his head, looking at Uhura. Her raven hair draped over her shoulder, fanning behind her, long eyelashes dusting against her cheeks, her dark skin so soft to the touch. Age had softened her body, accentuating her soft curves. She was as beautiful as Spock remembered. He released a quiet breath, reaching up to trail his hand gently down her arm, grasping her hand within his, holding her hand against his chest.

It would be so easy just to give in and give up. They could leave, run away together and leave Starfleet behind, leave Kirk behind. But could Spock move on? Leave the last piece on the board? Especially when it was within his reach? Could he leave?

It would be so easy.

Uhura sighed softly and snuggled closer, her hold tightening, murmuring his name in her sleep. Spock turned gaze to her face once more, so soft in sleep.

He released a breath. Quietly and slowly, he disentangled his body from her grasp and carefully left the bed, careful not to wake her. He quickly dressed and with one last look upon Uhura's sleeping form, he grabbed his jacket and left his quarters.

If he were to leave, there were things he needed to attend to.

* * *

Slowly, the morning light broke into the room, stirring Uhura from her sleeping state. Smiling, the events of last night washed over her, bringing her more happiness than she had felt in years. Her instincts had been right; her Spock was alive and here with her and last night they had made love, desperate to connect as they once had been, physically and emotionally. She stretched, reaching her arms out to the opposite side of the bed. While she found it empty, the sheets cool to the touch, Uhura wasn't bothered. It was not unusual for Spock to rise before she did, he always had and in some way, it was nice to see that some things never changed.

But that was minor in comparison to the other things…merely something that attributed more to his Vulcan heritage than anything else. Uhura knew that Spock had been affected, that the torment he suffered from all those years in prison had changed him. The pain was in his eyes as plain to see as the horrible scars on his back; pain which would probably always haunt him. It hurt her to see him like this, lost in a world of hate, the pain of betrayal weighing heavily on him; his best friend helping lock him up.

Uhura had not been an innocent bystander in this either, having served under Kirk and Admiral Pike. Spock's actions, his words, towards her spoke of his belief that she had turned on him and it had eaten away at him, making him question everything he had once known. She was not blind to Kirk and Pike's actions; she had had her suspicions from the beginning, but could never act on them. Not if she wanted to protect what Spock and she had, what they had shared. There was still something she needed to tell him.

Uhura wrapped the bed sheets around her body, sat up, and surveyed the room, finding no sign that Spock had been there recently. She suppressed a sigh, having no idea where he was or what he was doing but silently pleading that it would not hurt anyone. She was still unclear on the details surrounding his escape from prison and how and why he was here. But maybe it would be best not to know.

The door to Spock's quarters swooshed open and the flame-red haired, blue-eyed, green-skinned woman Uhura met in the corridors two nights ago entered with a smile bright on her face. Uhura was momentarily taken aback by her state of dress. Gone was the skimpy outfit that had barely covered her body; in its place she wore a one-piece body suit made of thick material. Even in its unattractiveness - the red color was awful against her green skin - it looked gorgeous on her, hugging her body tightly, accentuating the curves that probably drove countless men and even some women insane. Against her better judgment, a part of Uhura wondered if Spock had ever partaken in the sexual skills Orion women were said to possess.

"Oh, good you're awake," Gaila said, her voice pleased. She looked around the room, taking in the scattered clothing that had been tossed carelessly in their desire. She turned her gaze to Uhura, her eyes widening slightly at her undressed state, clinging the sheets against her chest, and then she inhaled deeply. Gaila's smile grew and she bounded to Uhura, throwing herself onto the bed. "Oh, thank God, he finally got laid!" she exclaimed.

"Um, hi," Uhura replied, curious as to why she was in Spock's room.

"I don't think that guy has gotten any in thirteen years!" she continued as though Uhura had not spoken, shock in her voice. "I would have done him myself but Vulcans and their sensibilities." She gave a large dramatic sigh. She reached down and picked up a pillow, tucked it under her arms and leaned over it, resting her chin on her hands and looking at Uhura expectantly, her blue eyes wide. "So, tell me, is he really as skilled as I suspect he is? With all those pent-up emotions and that sexy Vulcan allure? I bet he's good. He looks good. He looks like a fucking sex god..." Gaila drifted off, sighing dreamingly, her eyes drifting closed, no doubt thinking about Spock's…allure.

Uhura felt her jaw drop slightly at Gaila's line of questioning. Spock had willingly put himself in her company over the last year? Uhura would have thought an Orion's sexual appetite and pheromones would have driven Spock crazy and not in a good way.

Gaila suddenly opened her eyes and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. It always happens when there's a ton of sexual pheromones in the air," she said sheepishly. "I'll try and rein it in."

Uhura gave her a tight smile, clutching the sheets tighter. "It's okay," she replied softly, still wondering what the Orion was doing here. "So...where is Spock?" she asked, hoping that she knew where he was.

Gaila perked up. "Oh, right!" she said excitedly. "That's why I'm here." She jumped off the bed and gathered Uhura's uniform in her hands. "Spock wants you to join him later to..."

"Join him?" Uhura asked, curiously.

"Yeah," she replied, tossing the uniform on the bed. She smiled widely, clearly excited about the upcoming events. "He's going to leave...run away. Leave it all behind. He wants you to go with him."

Uhura gasped. Never did she believe that he would forgo his plan and run away. He had been so determined last night, desperate to get back at Kirk. She was unable to suppress the glee she felt at the moment and she jumped up, mindless of her nudity and pulled Gaila into a hug. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Thank you!"

Gaila laughed in response and after a moment, pulled back from the hug. She reached down, picked up the uniform on the bed and shoved it at Uhura's chest. "Now, get dressed. We have to get you to your Vulcan."

Uhura beamed, taking the uniform. "I'm going to need to pack some stuff from my quarters," she said.

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?" Gaila asked before giving Uhura a small nudge in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

Uhura beamed aboard the _Enterprise_ to find the chain of command to be in chaos. Crew members were frantically scattering, upset about something she had no idea of. Questions to the crew yielded no answers. Perplexed, Uhura made my way to Kirk's quarters, perhaps he knew what was going on; perhaps he was even the cause.

She pressed the keypad, asking for entry into the Captain's quarters, and a few seconds later, the door slid open, granting her access. She entered the room to find it in shambles, items tossed about, littering the ground. Kirk was in the bedroom, hovering over a small suitcase, clothes scattered on the bed. Uhura could see that he was angry, his body tense, his breathing heavy. He threw an article of clothing heavily into the suitcase.

Taking a chance, she announced my presence. "What's going on?"

Kirk turned to her, anger and an ounce of fear in his eyes. In all her years of knowing him, his cockiness, his brashness, his arrogance, Uhura had never seen him look fearful…until now. He looked caught off guard. He huffed and threw another article of clothing in with his belongings. He was in a rush to disappear. "It's over," he declared. "We've been caught. I'm going to be arrested."

"Arrested?" Uhura asked mildly distracted, tugging at her uniform, noticing that she had not pulled it on properly in her haste to get to the ship to pack. "For what?"

Kirk sighed heavily, looking skywards, recounting the charges. "Um, let's see, where do we start? Well, among others, there's accessory to an unlawful detention, noncompliance with procedural rules, murder, conspiracy to overthrow the Empire, oh, and attempted genocide. It appears some of the damn Halkans managed to escape unharmed," he stated matter-of-factly, not in the least bit ashamed of his actions.

Uhura shrugged. "You did all those things," she replied.

"Right," Kirk said shortly, turning to her. "That's not the point."

"Then what's the point?"

"It appears that someone here is working for Starfleet. My money is on our friend Selek. Either that or we got a traitor in our midst. They already got Bones and are now ransacking Pike's ship," he said, arms crossed over his chest, eyes boring into Uhura's. "Where were you last night?" She kept silent, ignoring his prod to get her to speak. Kirk released a sigh, turning back to his luggage. "Go pack something. We're going to get out of here."

Uhura shook her head. "I'm not going with you." Her voice was calm, confident.

Kirk suddenly stepped away from his luggage and picked up a large bottle, throwing it heavily against the wall, leaving shattered pieces of glass on the floor. He turned to her, jabbing his finger in her direction. "Yes, you are," he commanded. "You're as much an accomplice to everything as I am."

She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. "I'm not going," she stated once more, reiterating her stance.

Kirk scoffed and stepped toward her, glaring. Uhura met his gaze evenly. He cocked his head to the side, studying her. "You fucked him, didn't you?" Uhura raised her eyebrow at his crude words, unconsciously mimicking Spock, and stayed quiet. Kirk gave a derisive snort. "You're a real piece of work aren't you? You'll play cat and mouse with me but spread your legs in a second for any other guy, huh?"

Kirk shook his head, turned away and went back to his packing. He slammed his suitcase closed and picked it up. He walked to her and hovered over her. Reaching up, he ran his hand across her face. "I'd say it's been fun, but since I never did get to fuck you, that'd be a lie."

He leaned down and pressed an unwanted kiss against Uhura's lips. She pulled back, glaring into his eyes. He chuckled contemptuously and pulled away from her. He stepped around her and towards the door. When he was at the door, he turned back and issued two final words. "Goodbye, Gertrude."

She grimaced. "Not even close."

He laughed, the door closing behind him.


	22. A Complicated Vengeance

Desperately, James T. Kirk ran. Carrying his small bag with him, hoisted over his shoulder, he ran. He was not going to get arrested if he could help it. He had heard stories about the prison system used by the Empire and it was not a place he wanted to find himself. But since his ship was in orbit to a moon, and the only real form of escape had been taken over by mercenaries, he had beamed down to the surface and rushed to the ships he had seen in the landing dock of the facility operated by Selek.

Someone must have alerted the mercenaries to their location. His money was on Uhura. She had not arrived on board the Enterprise the night before – he always made sure he was aware of her whereabouts – and when she had arrived in his quarters late morning, he knew. He knew where she had been. He had seen the looks that had passed between his first officer and Selek, the weapons dealer. Their attraction was quite clear. Their attraction was quite clear, as he groped her and she let him. She let him touch her.

Was Selek even a legitimate dealer? Or had he set them up as well? It all seemed too perfect, too easy. A weapon that had the ability to create a black hole? Who had the capability in this day and age to even attempt such a thing? It was far too advanced.

…But it _had_ worked. The weapon really had imploded the asteroid on itself. The power one would have if they wielded it was…intoxicating. Kirk made his decision in that second. He diverted his direction from the other small ship to the ship he had seen fly into space and toss the red matter out. He knew it was housed inside. If he could gain control of the ship, then he would have a chance to get away.

Kirk pulled his phaser out the holster and made his way through to the landing dock, towards the ship. The facility was surprisingly empty. Perhaps because the people that had been here were part of the mercenary crew and were now boarding the Starfleet vessels. Kirk didn't dwell on the reasons why, instead thanking his lucky stars. A clean run through the facility meant that his chances to reach the vessel were increased.

Once he was in sight of the ship, Kirk ran to the entrance, surprised to find it open, the ramp lowered. He raised his phaser and slowly entered the ship, making sure he would not be surprised.

It was empty.

Once again it seemed too convenient. Too simple. Was someone expecting him?

Kirk cautiously made his way forward, checking every nook and cranny, making sure he truly was alone and not about to be ambushed. While he worked his way to the navigation control, he marveled at the design of the ship. It was gorgeous. And far more advanced than anything he had ever seen. It begged the question of who Selek truly was even more.

After a few more moments, and a few wrong turns, Kirk found the cockpit, where the navigation was located. His eyes scanned over the controls, and he growled, not able to read the words. Vulcan? This ship was Vulcan? How did they get the technology to create such a ship? For the first time in his life, Kirk was angry at himself for not paying attention in the language class he was forced to sit through at the Academy. He had taken it, believing that since Spock was his friend, he would have it easy. But Spock had refused to do the work for him, telling him that he needed to learn the language himself, but he would be willing to tutor him. Kirk never did take him up on that.

Kirk looked around the cabin, hoping that the controls would be similar to other ships he had flown. He twirled the pilot's chair around and glanced down. He halted.

Casually placed in the middle of the seat was a black chess piece, the King. Perplexed, Kirk bent down and picked it up, studying it, trying to figure out where it came from and why it was here.

The king held a special meaning for him. Or at least it used to. He and Spock had played a game when they were younger. In better times. He had given Spock the chess piece when he was being hauled away by Starfleet officers. But what was the significance of ithis /ipiece, the one on the chair?

As he was studying the chess piece, Kirk heard a noise behind him. He whirled around, lifting his phaser, ready to fire. Nothing.

Another sound. This time from his right. Kirk spun around in the direction of the sound once more and, once again, saw nothing. Becoming more worried by the second that he was about to be accosted, Kirk stepped forward, exiting the small cockpit, weapon at the ready. He saw nothing and shook his head, trying to clear it. He was becoming paranoid in his fear.

Kirk turned back around to resume his study of the ship controls, tucking the phaser inside its holster, hoping that maybe some of the Vulcan he had learned had managed to stick in his memory.

"Kings to you," a voice sounded to his left.

Kirk gasped, this time realizing that the sound had been real, not a figment of an overactive imagination. He quickly turned around and saw a figure in the shadow of the small corridor. The silhouette looked familiar. Kirk took a small step, mentally running the voice through his memory, trying to analyze it. It _had_ sounded familiar.

"Selek?" Kirk asked, his voice hesitant.

The figure moved into the light and Kirk was unable to suppress his surprise, his shock. His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. His hand slackened and he dropped the chess piece he still held. It clattered to the ground, lightly bouncing over his feet.

Kirk opened his mouth, trying to find his voice, but was unable to speak louder than a whisper. "...Spock...?"

The figure stepped closer once more, becoming more visible in the light of the cockpit. He tilted his head, which no longer bore facial hair, his hair no longer dusting over his forehead and ears, but cut in the traditional cut of a male Vulcan, harsh against his pale skin. His posture, which had been rigid as Selek, was now even more so, his hands clasped behind his back, which was held straight. His shoulders were stiff, held back. He connected his gaze with Kirk's, his face calm and serene but his eyes wild, angry.

Kirk fumbled over his words once more, still reeling from the shock of seeing his former friend standing before him, after believing that he was still locked away or at worst, dead. "Spock…but…how?"

Spock, formerly recognized as Selek, took small steps towards Kirk, keeping his posture rigid. "How did I escape?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "With difficulty."

Kirk swallowed thickly and stepped back, refusing to allow Spock closer, the furious look in his eyes unsettling him. Spock continued walking to him, his voice calm. "How did I plan this moment?" he asked rhetorically, shaking his head. "I am ashamed to admit that there was a great deal of pleasure involved."

Kirk laughed nervously, looking to his side, trying to find an easy way to the exit. He took another step back, and Spock followed suit, stepping forward, keeping the distance between the two men consistent. Kirk took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He had been in worse situations than this before and he had always managed to escape. He didn't believe in no-win scenarios. He could win this.

Kirk chuckled and narrowed his eyes, taking a deep breath, shaking his head, remembering when he had seen Uhura earlier on the _Enterprise_. Now, it was even clearer. "So, you're the one who fucked Uhura last night?" he asked. He scoffed at Spock's blank expression, something that Kirk had always noticed Spock did when he didn't want to answer a question, yet often meant an affirmation. A large part of Kirk fumed. Even after all these years, he still lost out to Spock when it came to her. "Well, at least she's consistent," he growled. "Still screwing me over without the actual screwing."

Spock ignored Kirk's comment and continued slowly walking towards him, lowering his arms from behind his back and revealing a phaser within his hand. Kirk's eyes widened, not expecting Spock to have a weapon. He watched, a feeling of fear settling inside, Spock lift the phaser and direct it at his chest, set to kill. "I regret that it has come to this," Spock said, his finger moving to the trigger. "But I must admit that I am not the same man I was all those years ago."

Kirk swallowed thickly, realizing that the situation he was currently in was quite dire. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, mentally kicking himself for asking such an obtuse question. Kirk wasn't stupid; manipulative, cruel and merciless maybe, but he wasn't stupid. He was perfectly aware of the 'why' but he had been thrown by the fact that it was Spock holding the phaser directed at him.

A small smirk formed on Spock's face, and along with his murderous eyes, gave him a ominous expression. "It is…" Spock paused for a second, for dramatic effect, an action that chilled Kirk to the bone; he truly had gone off the deep end. "…complicated."

Kirk laughed lightly, hearing the words he had spoken to Spock all those years ago being used against him now, with him being the one with a phaser to his chest. Spock took another step toward him. "Let us just say that it is vengeance for what you took from me."

"Well, that's not very Vulcan is it?" Kirk chastised, his hand quickly moving to his side, trying to reach for his own phaser.

But he had forgotten about the Vulcan's quicker speed, his superior strength. Spock lunged forward, grabbing the phaser from Kirk's hand and tossing it aside, his arm moving up to push against the human's chest, forcing him to slam against the wall. Kirk groaned at the impact. Spock lifted his phaser, pointing it directly at Kirk's face. His eyes cold, Spock spoke calmly, "How did you ever call yourself my friend?"

"We _were_ friends, Spock," he replied.

Spock furrowed his brow, a sign of his confusion. "And yet you had me sent to what I believe most humans would refer to as hell. Why?"

Kirk shrugged underneath Spock's strong grip. "I told you," Kirk said, referring to the night Spock had rushed into his home, desperate the escape the guards chasing after him, believing that Kirk really would help him. "There's really no other reason than that. I wanted what you had. So I took it. And if I had a chance to do it all over again…" Kirk leaned forward, getting in Spock's face. "I probably would do it the same way. Only this time I'd make sure you were really dead. Can't have you mucking up my plans."

Spock lunged once more, slamming Kirk harder against the wall. Breathing heavily, he lifted the phaser and aimed it more directly at Kirk's face. Kirk noticed Spock hesitance on the trigger, his eyes flickering from his own down to his hand, as though he was trying to will his finger to pull the trigger. Kirk laughed. "See. You can't even do it. Don't have it in you."

Spock tried once more, pressing his arm against Kirk's neck, but still he faltered, unable to bring himself to pull the trigger. Kirk saw the frustration in Spock's eyes and felt him pull back from him slightly. Kirk, deciding that he would rather take his chances fighting than just sitting idly by, used that moment to his advantage.

He pushed Spock back as hard as he could. Spock, not expecting the move due to his internal distraction, stumbled and Kirk reached out, grabbing the phaser out of his hand and whipping it around, pointing it at the Vulcan. "You may not have the guts to do it, but I do," Kirk threatened, positioning his finger against the trigger.

* * *

Spock halted, his eye on the phaser directed at him. Internally, he chastised himself for allowing Kirk to distract him, to make him question himself. Now, he stood, weaponless, while Kirk pointed a phaser set to kill at his chest. He dared to take a step forward.

Kirk fired the phaser over his shoulder, an echo of the same action he had done when Spock had gone to him when he was being arrested. And once again, the red phaser fire whizzed past his head, landing on the bulkhead. It was a warning shot.

"No!" A feminine voice shouted.

Spock heard the light footfalls of two women rush into the small room, and he turned to see Uhura and Gaila halt, drawing in deep breaths. Kirk smirked at their appearance. "Oh, Commander, so glad you could join us. We were just talking about you."

"Miss Uhura, Miss Gaila, it would be wise for the two of you to leave immediately," Spock said, his voice commanding.

"No," Uhura replied, her voice hard. "I'm not leaving you."

"I told you I was going to keep an eye on you, Spock. You're always getting your ass in situations like this," Gaila said, her eyes darting from Spock to Kirk, to the phaser in his hand.

Spock moved to his side, trying to stand between Kirk and the women, but Uhura stepped around him, placing herself in front of Spock and before Kirk, much to Spock's dislike. He feared for her safety; Kirk was not mentally stable and since he had been confronted, Spock could only imagine what he would be capable of. He knew that Uhura could take care of herself, but he still felt the urge to protect her.

Uhura lifted her hands, like a police officer would do to show Kirk that she was unarmed, and took a small footstep to him. "James, please," she pleaded. "You don't have to do this."

"Give me one good reason not to," Kirk replied. In horror, Spock watched Kirk point his phaser in Uhura's direction. He hesitated moving forward for fear that Kirk would take the shot. "You're a real piece of work, Uhura," Kirk said to her. He flicked his eyes back to Spock and continued. "You know if you're going to blame me for everything, you might as well make her a part of the package. You'd be disappointed if you knew the things she had been a part of, the things she's done while under my command."

Spock shook his head. "Miss Uhura is not responsible for actions taken while under your orders," he replied. "Particularly if she was acting under duress as she appeared to be the night before last, when she came to voice her objections to you and Admiral Pike."

Kirk chuckled, shaking his head. "Uhura is not as innocent as you like to believe, Spock," he said.

"I have seen into her mind, Jim. I have seen the truth." Spock edged closer to Uhura, wanting to pull her away from the manic captain's reach. "Please, release the Commander and Miss Gaila and take the other ship. I will not try and stop you. Consider it an act of mercy for every crime that you have committed against me and others as well."

"Well, that's very lenient of you, Spock." Kirk said, his voice disbelieving.

"Take me instead. But please, do not injure the women. They have done you no harm." Spock released a slow breath of air when he saw Kirk lower his phaser. At his side, he heard Gaila call to Uhura, wanting to get her out of harm's way.

"Spock, no!" Uhura protested. She whirled around, her back to Kirk, and looked to Spock, desperation in her eye. She placed her hands on his chest, grasping his shirt tightly in her hands. "Don't you dare do this," she begged, her voice merely a whisper. "Not when I just got you back."

Spock gazed into her eyes. He lifted a hand and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen from the thick ponytail on top of her head. He whispered to her, uttering a phrase that was so illogical in nature, so…romantic that had he been his former self, he would have visibly cringed in its delivery and timing. "It will be alright, _k'diwa_. I will be back."

The moment was interrupted by Kirk groaning. "God, you guys make me sick," he growled, suddenly stepping forward and grabbing hold of Uhura's arm, jerking her back against his chest.

Gaila screamed out in protest and Spock surged forward in an attempt to pull Uhura away from Kirk but to no avail. Kirk held the phaser to Uhura's head, threatening to fire if either Spock or Gaila came closer. Uhura's breathing grew shallower and her wide eyes locked on Spock's, her fear displayed on her face. Spock inched forward, not having expected the turn of events, having failed to calculate the odds; he had assumed that Kirk's obsession with Uhura would keep her safe, but clearly he had been mistaken.

Kirk chuckled at the sudden tension in the room. He reached down with his left hand, trailing down Uhura's thigh to the top of her boots. He took hold of the grip of the dagger that she still secured there. He lifted it, pocketed his phaser, and held the dagger at her throat, digging the tip of the blade into her throat. Uhura's eyes widened in fear and Spock started at the sight of her blood, as slight as it was, pooling around the edge of the blade.

"This is much more personal," Kirk said, kissing the side of Uhura's face. "I don't want to hurt her, but if you don't back off, I will," he threatened, casting his gaze behind Spock.

Spock turned around to see Gaila take a step back; holstering the small weapon she had in her hand. Spock returned his gaze to the scene before him. "Jim, please, release the Commander."

Kirk shook his head, refusing. "No. She's coming with me," he declared, before suddenly lunging forward and throwing the dagger in Spock's direction.

Uhura cried out and Spock slumped forward, his hand moving to his shoulder. Gaila rushed to Spock to prevent him from falling to the ground. Kirk took advantage of the chaos he created and grabbed Uhura's arm, dragging her with him, and rushed towards the exit, easily overpowering her fighting protests.

"Spock!" Gaila exclaimed, supporting the injured Vulcan.

Spock took a deep breath. "It is of no concern," he said, looking at the dagger buried deeply within his shoulder.

Gaila scoffed. "Don't you dare downplay this again!" she yelled at him. She moved her hands to Spock's shoulder, gently examining the area around the entry wound, green blood oozing down Spock's chest.

"There is no time. Please assist me in removing the dagger," Spock explained, his voice rushed. "I must get to Nyota. I will not allow Kirk to hurt her."

Gaila sighed. "You're right, you're right." She reached up and took hold of his shoulder with one hand, bracing Spock. With her other hand, she took hold of the dagger's grip and without preamble, pulled it out. Spock suppressed a groan of pain.

"Thank you, Gaila," he said before rushing forward, and chasing after Kirk and Uhura.

* * *

"James, let me go!" Uhura demanded, attempting to pull her arm from Kirk's tight grip. Kirk dragged her down the ramp of the futuristic ship, ignoring her protests. He looked around the area frantically, whipping the phaser around, assuring that they were not being followed or that they were about to be surrounded. "James, please," she tried once more.

Kirk stopped suddenly, jerking Uhura in front of him, tightening his hold on her. She stumbled at his actions, bracing herself against him. "You were the one working with Spock, weren't you? You were the one who alerted the mercenaries of our location," he stated, his voice harsh, his eyes hard, leaving no doubt in Uhura's mind what he would do if she did not defend herself.

She shook her head, tugging on her arms. "No! It wasn't me! I didn't know Spock was alive until I confronted him last night," she exclaimed, hoping that telling Kirk the truth would grant her freedom.

He scoffed, not taking her word for it. "Please, you expect me to believe that?" He asked. "You were making moon eyes at him the second you saw him." She couldn't deny that; she had been taken with him even when she thought he was a weapons dealer, but her attraction to him had made sense once she discovered his real identity.

She needed to get away. Kirk was dangerous in his anger; she had witnessed the damage first-hand enough times to know that. As Kirk continued dragging her towards the other ship in the landing bay, Uhura fought back, trying to use the strength she had acquired through the years of training against him. Finally, she decided that she needed to make a risky decision; she reached up with her free arm, and swung with all of her might, slamming her fist against the side of his head.

Kirk stumbled forward at the impact, dropping his phaser to the ground and releasing Uhura's hand. She took advantage of her freedom and shoved Kirk forward, forcing him to the ground. She kicked his stomach, causing him to gasp and roll to his side, clutching his stomach. She kicked him once more, hard, trying to draw the air out of his lungs. Once she believed he was down, she turned and ran back in the direction of Spock's ship.

Kirk surprised her by reaching out and grabbing hold of her ankle, causing her to fall to the ground, landing hard on her knee. She cried out in pain, grabbing her knee. Kirk stood and loomed over her, anger in his eyes. Straddling her body, he bent down and took hold of the shoulder straps on her uniform, lifting her upper body from the ground. He pulled one hand back, forming a fist and Uhura flinched, steeling against the hit she expected.

But he was abruptly pulled off her. Uhura took the moment to clamber to her feet, keeping the weight off her injured leg. Gaila came to her side, helping her steady herself and Uhura leaned into her thankfully and together the two women looked to the men. Spock had slammed Kirk to the ground and was currently pummeling him. Kirk did his best to block Spock's fists, but the Vulcan's superior strength was too much for the human to take.

Uhura saw Kirk take a last ditch effort and reach down to his holster, attempting to grab hold of the phaser he still possessed. She cried out Spock's name, warning him to watch out. Spock was quick to relieve Kirk of the only way he could win. Taking the phaser, Spock stood and stepped back, directing the weapon at Kirk, who lay on the ground, nursing his wounds, blood falling down the side of his face, his busted lip.

Kirk rolled around on the ground, reeling from the beating he had just sustained. He looked up at Spock pointing the phaser at him and laughed. "Oh, Spock," Kirk chastised mockingly. "What would your father say if he could see you now? He didn't raise you like that, you know."

Spock grabbed Kirk by the collar of his uniform and pushed him backwards, slamming him against the hull of the lesser ship. He held the phaser at point blank range, threateningly. Uhura rushed forward, ignoring Gaila's urges to stay back and the pain in her knee, and ran to Spock. She couldn't let him do this, couldn't let him become a killer. "Spock, no!" she cried out, grabbing his upper arm, trying to pull his arm down and away from Kirk.

"Spock, yes!" Kirk replied, daring the Vulcan to take the plunge.

Spock's eyes darted from Uhura's to Kirk's and Uhura could see the battle raging inside him. She didn't want him to succumb, didn't want him to falter. "Spock, please, don't do this," she pleaded.

Spock growled, pushing Kirk against the hull, digging his elbow into his neck. He took deep, shaky breaths. He lowered his weapon slightly and Kirk sneered. "Come on, Spock, you know you want to. Just pull the trigger," Kirk taunted him.

Uhura tried once more to reach Spock, to calm him, to get him to let the authorities take care of it. Spock's eyes drifted from Kirk and she saw the fight leave him, his weapon dropping to his side. Kirk's face fell and Uhura knew that he was only trying to urge Spock to kill him so he could escape his certain prison sentence.

"Death is too kind for you," Spock said, his voice not betraying the anger Uhura could see in his eyes. "You will suffer for your crimes as I have suffered." Kirk's eyes widened and Spock reached down, quickly placing his hand on the curve between Kirk's neck and shoulder, and pinched tightly. Kirk's eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Spock stepped back, and the fight left him with a rush of air, the adrenaline leaving his system. He slumped down and Uhura reached out, trying to support him but faltering due to her own injuries. She noticed the emerald blood seeping out of his shoulder wound and she gasped, realizing that the injury was more serious than she thought previously. Gaila ran forward and helped Spock and Uhura move back, away from Kirk's unconscious body. The Orion led the two reunited lovers to a bench against the wall near the entrance of the building and both Spock and Uhura collapsed against the seat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Uhura saw Gaila rush back to Kirk and direct a phaser at him, in case he awoke. She spoke into a communication device, "Hey, Scotty" Uhura heard her say. "We've got him. So whenever you're ready to take him up, he's in my location."

"Roger that," a voice replied, garbled by static.

Uhura turned to Spock, placed her hands on his face and kissed him deeply. Spock returned the kiss, bringing his healthy arm around her waist, holding her tightly. She pulled back and placed small feather-light kisses against his cheeks, feeling overwhelmed by the events of the past several moments. Tears leaked out of her eyes and Spock reached up to brush them aside. She kissed him once more, before pulling back and resting her forehead against his, breathing deeply. Spock's eyes drifted closed and he inhaled deeply, breathing in Uhura's scent, and nuzzled her gently and whispered a word that puzzled her briefly before he kissed her again, brushing all other thoughts from her mind.

"Checkmate."

**.FIN.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure people aren't going to be too happy with that abrupt ending...*sheepish look* When I was writing this, I had _just_ made the deadline.
> 
> I know there are some loose ends that didn't get tied up…I'm sure one of the one on most readers' minds is the girl at Admiral Barnett's. Hmm… even I'm not overly sure of her origin…it changed over and over again as I was writing ;)
> 
> But I _will_ say this:
> 
> There _might_ be a sequel to this.....someday...eventually....maybe. If my muse lets me :) Soon(TM)


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